For All of My Memories
by LokidAsgardian
Summary: Peter Parker is the adopted son of Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. He grows up thinking he's normal until he finds out he's adopted. As he grows older his parents start fighting more, they get into more danger, and soon the inevitable happens.
1. Chapter 1

I was five years old when I logged my first memory. I don't remember it well, but what I do remember most out of it was that I had my dads. They were all I ever needed in my life to make me happy. Even though I was five, I was happy with that simple fact.

I started remembering more things when I turned eight and was in elementary school. I had never known I was different except for the fact that most people had a Mom and Dad and I had Pops and Dad.

I remembered my third grade teacher asking to speak with my parents because I had failed a math test, something I knew Dad would be really disappointed in. I had begged her not to call them, but she did and I had to wait until school was let out for my parents to arrive.

My teacher and I didn't speak until Pops opened the door followed by Dad. I looked down at my desk already feeling the wrath. "Hey, Pete," Pops said coming to sit in the desk next to mine. I looked up teary-eyed. I had never done anything wrong until this point, and I sure as hell didn't fail in _math_. "C'mon now, don't cry, everyone makes mistakes," Pops reassured me wiping the tears from my eyes. Dad, however, didn't say anything.

I snuck a peek at him looking for some sort of hope, but all I could see was his straight-lined mouth and dark eyes. Pops never scared me, even when he was angry, but Dad, well he's like Satan when he's angry.

The teacher explained my low test score and how I'd been having more difficulty in math than the other kids. I didn't know what it meant at the time, because all I saw it as was failure.

We got up to leave, Pops grabbed my backpack, and we headed out to the car. "We've been helping him with his homework every night, I don't understand why he's not grasping it." Dad stated rather bluntly.

"He could have gotten it from me, I suck at numbers," Pops defended.

"Right. Cause you're his biological father. Maybe we should get him a proper tutor. Maybe I can put Jarvis back into a body and he can help Pete,"

"Tony, I'll forget the jab at being his real father, but I think we should sit down with him tonight with his homework and ask if he's getting it. We haven't tried that, y'know, all we've done is tell him how to do it. I don't think we're getting the information across clearly enough for him,"

Dad didn't say anything else on the ride home. As soon as we got to our house he left to the lab in the basement like he did everyday. Pops set my backpack on the kitchen table and motioned me over. I sat down at the table and he sat next to me. "Is Dad mad at me?" I remember asking quite clearly.

"No, no, no, of course not, Peter, he's just…he's just your Dad. That's how he is. He sees you as being the perfect and cherished one in the family, and I know this may not make sense to you, Pete, but know this: he looks up to you, as weird as that may sound. You always cheer him on, you do what's asked of you, and you always mind your manners. Dad just doesn't really…do any of those things without being threatened or forced. You're doing perfectly, you hear? Don't for one second think that either of us is mad at you for a silly grade,"

He didn't think I'd understand, but I remember what he'd said and as I grew a little older I began to put the pieces more together.

Then I remembered my tenth birthday. It was a horrible nightmare that I wish I'd forget. It wasn't the 'I'm so embarrassed this has scarred me forever' type of horrible nightmare, no, this was…well…this:

I had a few of my friends over for a small party. I had a cake, a few gifts, and I was happy to know my Dads were there the entire time. They took pictures, helped make some punch, and chatted with the other parents in the backyard when all the cooking had been done.

We were sitting at the picnic table eating hotdogs when one of my friends asked, "What's it like having two dads?"

I simply replied, "I don't know what you mean,"

He said, "Well, my Mom is having a baby. Can either of your dads do that?"

I thought about it, "I'm not sure. I've never asked," so I got up and tugged on Pops's shirt. "Pops, can you or Dad have a baby?" I asked.

The other parents snickered and Dad looked down at me and shook his head, "No, we can't,"

With my new information I rushed back over to my friends and said, "Nope. They can't have a baby,"

The other boys starred at me for a moment and another one asked, "Then how were you born?"

I thought about this and stopped eating my hotdog. I grew curious. My friends were right, how could I be born if they couldn't have kids? So I went up to Pops again, tugged on his shirt, and asked "How was I born?" I asked not relaying the question properly.

Pops stared at me hard and bent down to pick me up. "We'll talk about that later, okay?" he asked forcing a smile. Dad looked at Pops with something in his eye that I couldn't read.

My friends, for some reason, didn't include me in the rest of _my_ birthday activities. Everyone left at around 3pm and I sat under my favorite tree licking a grape-flavored Popsicle. I was upset by how my friends had treated me, but I had my Popsicle and I was trying to enjoy that.

Dad came over and sat next to me, "That good?" he asked and I nodded. "Can I taste?" he asked. I handed him my treat and he took a lick and nodded, "It's good."

"Told you,"

"Technically you didn't say anything, you just nodded," he smirked and I chuckled sucking on my treat again. "Your Pops and I want to talk about what you asked earlier," he said quietly almost sounding like he was trying to avoid it.

"Okay," I said fighting back a cry. I was secluded from all the events the past two hours and now I was getting new news. My little ten-year-old body wouldn't be able to handle much more.

"Well, your Pops and I…can't have kids. Do you know why?" he asked.

"No." I answered.

"Oh God, you really need to wait a couple of years for sex-ed, Steve, he's not ready!" he yelled at the house. I saw Pops through the kitchen window where he put his two fingers up to his eyes and directed them to Dad. "Alright, alright," he sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, so-" and he proceeded to give me a quick lesson on how this thing called 'sex' lead to a girl getting pregnant with a baby and only girls can get pregnant with babies. "Do you see? Your Pops and I aren't girls and we can't have our own kids.

"So…what am I? Am I an alien?" I asked.

Dad snorted a laugh and tried to get serious again, "What? No, Peter, you're not an alien. You're…you're…uh…" he sighed and looked at me, "You're adopted."

"What does that mean?" I asked. "Is that an alien planet I'm from?'

Dad smirked again but quickly distilled it, "You have…another Mom and Dad somewhere else who, um, God how can I say this nicely to you?" he fumbled for words and you could see he was obviously struggling.

"Another…Mom and dad?" I asked feeling my stomach sink. The popsicle no longer was appetizing.

"Yeah, but-"

"They didn't want me?"

"I can't do this by myself," Dad stated getting up and rushing into the kitchen pulling Pops outside with him, but I was already standing with my grape deliciousness sitting in the dirt.

"Why didn't they want me?" I asked feeling that cry creep into my throat.

"Not everyone is nice, Peter," Pops said quietly. "But we wanted you," I started to cry. Not that my Dads adopted me or the fact that someone didn't want me, but the fact that my Dads weren't my _real_ Dads sent me over the edge. I didn't have Dad's eyes or Pops's nose like they'd told me, I didn't have anything of theirs except their last name.

I ran past them and out the front door and down the street. I could see Pops chasing after me and I cried until he caught up with me. "God you run fast!" he exclaimed picking me up. I sobbed into his chest and then realized if the only thing I had of my parents was their last name, then I'd die to that last name.


	2. Chapter 2

I stayed in my room for the next few days that followed my tenth birthday. I would go out to eat when Pops ordered pizza or cooked my meals, but I wouldn't speak to them. Not because I didn't like them or was mad at them, no, I was thinking about my real parents. Why didn't they want me? Was I too…was I too messed up and ugly for them to have? I couldn't have been that ugly of a baby because, as weird as it sounds, my Dads aren't ugly in the least. Sure, Dad had a few lines around his mouth and crows feet clawing at the edges of his eyes, but they are no ugly men.

On the third day of secluding myself in my room Pops came up and knocked on my door, "Pete, can we talk?"

I looked up from my comic book, I can't recall which one it was, and answered, "Yes."

He came in and sat at the edge of my bed placing a firm hand on my leg. "About your birthday…"

"It's fine, Pops,"

"No, it's not. Dad and I are worried about you,"

"I'm just sad that…you and Dad aren't my real parents."

Pops couldn't help but smile, he patted my leg and sighed, "We are now. You're legally ours; no one else can claim you as their son, even if they…created you."

"Why me though?" I asked putting the comic on my nightstand.

"Because when we saw you…you were perfect. You had Dad's eyes and my nose. And when I held you you never cried, never threw a tantrum…you were just perfect. I knew marrying your Dad was going to be hard on me because I wanted a family, but after a couple of years we decided it was time and I'm happy to say that it was the best decision we ever made."

"So I can keep my name?" I asked.

"What? I thought you liked the name Peter,"

"No, my last name,"

Pops's smile went to his ears, "Of course you can,"

"Good," I said triumphantly.

"Also, when Dad gets home we want to take you out for a surprise," Pops said happily.

"Is it more ice cream? Cause you know I like popsicles better,"

He laughed, "No, no, it's something better,"

"Okay," I smiled, "Oh, I have more homework tonight, will you help me?"

"It's summer vacation…"

"I know, but I've been working on math and I want to improve them for Dad. My math teacher says I should sign up for the tournament when school starts again, but I'm still having trouble and I don't want to fail it again,"

I could see it in Pops's eyes that he was concerned about my teacher's motives, "Of course I'll help. I was never good in math, so you might want to ask Jarvis for help,"

"Well I don't want Dad to know until after the tournament,"

"Why's that?"

"Because if I lose he'll have to watch me fail, but if I win I'll make him really happy," I said.

"Peter, he'll be happy with anything you do. He's happy just knowing you're here with him and doing your best,"

I was quiet for a minute and said, "Maybe I'll have Jarvis open a secret file for me so he can help me,"

Pops knew it was pointless and ruffled my hair, "I made your favorite for lunch."

I got excited, "Really? You never make my chocolate-grape-jelly sandwiches!"

"That's because I think they're disgusting, but how Tony got to like them beats me. Want to take one to Dad's office? We'll pay him a surprise visit,"

"Yeah!" I jumped up slipping my shoes on.

It was later that night, and I remember this very vividly: I was sitting in front of the TV watching old reruns of Spongebob when Dad came home. It was about 4 in the afternoon and it had begun to rain. He was soaked and Pops came rushing over to relieve his husband of his wet clothing.

"Just started raining cats and dogs! Perfectly sunny one minute then trashing a storm the next. Thor must have some vendetta against New York or something,"

Pops laughed, "I'm pretty sure it's something else, like his brother braking out of prison, the Tesseract was stolen again, or maybe Thor's paying a visit,"

"Let's opt out options one and two because both of those things would mean trying to save people again and destroying Manhattan again, let's vote option three," Dad smirked as he set his briefcase by the hallway table. "Hey, Pete, how was the rest of your day?" he came over and kissed the top of my head before walking into the kitchen for a moment. He returned with a soda.

"Just watched TV," I said. He gave me the soda and I opened it and took the first sip, it was something we had gotten into habit of doing. Pops thought it was a bit weird, but Dad and I had a weird bond. "I also wanted to take pictures with Pops's new camera, but he wouldn't let me,"

"We'll get you one of your own someday," he said taking a long swig of his drink. "Now how about that surprise, you read to go see it?" he asked smiling.

"I've been waiting all day!" I exclaimed jumping up.

"Maybe you didn't need that bit of caffeine, but get your rain boots and jacket on and we'll leave," he said as I rushed over to the hallway table.

"Maybe we should do it tomorrow, it's raining," Pops stated.

"Well I've already told him so let's go,"

"You did that on purpose."

"Maybe," they smiled at each other and got their stuff together.

I sat in the backseat as Dads talked. I looked out the window making pretend bets on which raindrop would win the race to the bottom of the window, but we shortly arrived at a small shop and we got out. It was a pet store.

We went inside and they had about seven dogs, five cats, and tons of gerbils, hamsters, and birds for sale.

Pops and Dad looked at me and said, "Pick one."

I had remembered mentioning wanting a dog a couple years back and they both said now, but now…now they were letting me pick and I teared up. Okay, I was an emotional kid, alright?

"Why-why are you crying, Pete?" Dad asked bending down to my level.

"I-I don't know!" I sobbed covering my face.

"I said we should come back tomorrow and you didn't listen," Pops sighed.

"This has nothing to do with what day we go; I think he's overwhelmed that we're getting him a puppy. Pete, go and pick!"

I nodded with snot running down my nose and looked at each puppy they had. There were three Golden-Retrievers, a Pomeranian, two German Sheppards, a Chihuahua, and a Collie. I looked at each one of them and pointed to the Collie. "That one," I said still crying.

Dad went up to a clerk and she went around the back to pull the dog out. It had its own leash, collar, food bowls, and a coupe of toys, and he was no older than six months. It was calm when it emerged onto the sales floor. I bent down and it took notice to me and sat infront of my knees. We made eye contact and we instantly connected. "Perfect." I said wiping the tears from my eyes. I wrapped my arms around it's neck and hugged it for a good minute.

"The sales woman says it's a boy, Pete. What're you going to name it?" Pops asked.

"I don't know yet. I'll pick on one the way home,"

So we piled in the car with the puppy on my lap. Dads had gotten all of the essentials needed for raising a puppy and stuffed them in the trunk. The puppy was calm and stared at me the entire time we drove home. I thought of different names and none of them seemed to fit well.

"Have you picked a name yet, Peter?" Dad asked as we arrived home. The rain had let up enough for us to get out and rush inside.

When we got inside the puppy shook off at the door and sat down wagging its tail at me. I sat down next to him and scratched behind his ears, "Neapolitan."

Dad snorted for a moment and I could hear Pops elbow him in the stomach, "Why Neapolitan?"

"Cause he has so many colors. Look at him. It's perfect." I said kissing his nose and his tail wagged even more. "I'll call him Neo for short because it is kind of long," I said getting up.

Dad tried holding back his laughter and bent down to pet the dog who licked his hand in response, "Maybe you should name him after a food that you actually like,"

"But I like this name," I whined.

"Okay, okay! He's your dog," Dad got up and put a gentle hand on Pops's shoulder.

"He's perfect." I whispered looking into his dark, brown eyes. It was like I could understand him and he understood me. Then again, I was ten and still talked to my stuffed animals.


	3. Chapter 3

My summer that year had been uneventful. My Dads encouraged me to play with my friends, but I just wanted to spend time with Neo.

I told him my darkest secrets, we played almost every minute of the day, I snuck him food all the time, and he slept with me when it was time for bed. We were best friends and no little boy could ask for better.

Neo and I had conversations together. Of course I was the one who talked the entire time, but I would say something and look at him and would know the answer. I just knew, and therefore we talked.

It was sometime in early August that Dads, Neo, and I were sitting in the living room watching Singing in the Rain because, well, it was raining and we thought it was a perfect fit. Neo had grown just a little and had gained quite a few pounds. I was sitting on the floor with my hand on his neck playing with his collar like I always did when Pops declares he's going to make us popcorn.

"You're going to miss your favorite scene," Dad remarked.

"I've seen this movie hundreds of times, I can live without it," Pops said smiling as he left the room.

It was at that moment that a loud clap of thunder shook the house and the power went off. Let's get this straight: I have a massive fear of the dark. So intense, infact, that I start to cry and I find myself clinging to Dad's shirt because the Arc is the only thing glowing in the room. And that's exactly what I do.

"I'll go to the circuit braker," Pops called as he went out into the backyard shed.

"You're fine, Peter, it's just the dark. Look, Neo's fine," Dad tried helping but I was sobbing at this point and wanted nothing to do with moving. "Pete, it's okay."

Neo barked, which was something he never did, and I looked down at him with tears streaking my face. "Neo, d-don't bark!" I demanded, but then he ran to the front door and began barking louder. Thunder boomed harder and I could hear Pops open the back door talking to himself about 'stupid electricity'. "Hey, Tony, you're going to have to check it, I still don't know what I'm doing,"

"Yeah, alright, watch Peter and Neo, they're both losing their shit," Dad said getting up with me in his arms. He handed me off to Pops and I clung hard to his neck. Dad left to the backyard and Pops and I sat down on the couch with Neo still barking at the door.

"Neo, come here," Pops called and Neo made no acknowledgment to his master's call. "Neo, come here!" and then there was a bang. Not thunder bang, but a mechanized bang. At first Pops and I thought it was Dad in the shed with the braker, but it had come from outside the front door. Neo had yelped and ran to the back of the house as we both suddenly got quite.

"Dad, what was that?" I whispered to him.

"I don't know, Pete, stay on the couch, alright?" he said setting me down, but I grasped for his shirt not wanting him to leave. "You'll be alright, I'm just going by the front door," he said.

"Pops, I'm scared," I whispered starting to cry again.

"I'm right here; I'm not going anywhere, alright? Just stay put, Peter," he inched his way to the front door looking through the glass on the side window. He obviously didn't see anything as he got more comfortable and stood whole-bodied in front of the door. He looked for a couple more seconds and there was another bang. Pops jumped from the door and looked at me, "It's the neighbors house. Something's wrong, I'm going to get the phone!" he then dashed down the hallway and I heard Dad open the door.

"Call 911! Someone broke into the Robertson's house!" Dad yelled and I could hear Pops already on the phone talking to the police.

Dad came into the living room as I sobbed into the cushion. "It's alright," he cooed petting my head.

Pops got off the phone and went to the front door and watched out the window at the neighbor's house. "He's leaving!" he yelled and opened the door.

"Steve, stay here! The police will handle it!" Dad yelled but Pops was already out the door. "DAMMIT!" he ran to the door and left me.

"Dad!" I called too scared to get up. "Pops!" I scrambled off the couch and rushed to the back of the house where I knew Neo was hiding. I found him under the dining room table and moved a couple chairs and hid under there with him. He was whining and I was crying. I held onto him tightly waiting for my parents to return.

A couple minutes passed and I heard another round of fire. That's when I first felt it. There was a sharp pain in the back of my neck and I thought I had gotten bitten by something, but I reached back and there was nothing there. I closed my eyes as the pain increased. When I reopened them it was like I could see for the first time.

Everything was crystal clear. The house wasn't dark, it was as light as day. Neo's fur was so high definition that I could see every strand of hair; I could see the lines in his eyes that lead to his very dilated pupil. I could smell Dad's coffee in the living room and I could pick out which beans he'd used. I could hear each rain droplet hit the roof or windows.

But while examining everything to its fullest, I then thought "What if that shot was to Pops or Dad and they were hurt?" and suddenly I wasn't scared anymore. My parents were my priority and I left Neo under the table. I ran to the front door and out into the storm.

Dad was lying on the ground clutching his leg as blood puddle around him and Pops was fighting for the gun in the man's hand. I began towards the two fighting and Dad saw me in the corner of his eye.

"PETER, NO!" he screamed now trying to get up despite his excruciating pain. I could hear sirens beginning to make their way down our block, but I didn't want to wait.

The man pushed Pops away for a split second and fired the gun at me. I aimed my hand out at the gun and some sort of string erupted from my wrist and grabbed the gun. It hurt for a second, but I didn't know what the hell I was doing, but I pulled the gun towards me and it slid onto the cement away from the bad guy. Pops got up and pinned the man to the ground as Dad stared at me completely ignoring his pain.

The police arrived and handled the situation. An ambulance came to pick up Dad and the three of us went to the hospital to get checked. Neither of them said anything to me on the way there, but when were left in the emergency room alone, Dad looked at me with his fierce eyes and said, "What the hell was that?"

I looked at him and began to tear up. He was angry by what I had done, but the sterile smell or gloves and sheets began to overpower my senses.

"Pete," Pops began quietly, "Since when can you do things like that?" he was obviously trying to be the calm one.

"I-it just happened. I'm sorry, I wanted to help," I began crying, cause like I said earlier, I'm was an emotional kid.

"You don't have to cry, son," Dad said, "We're just … concerned," he looked like he couldn't find the right word.

"I'm sorry!" I wailed as a nurse came in to finally stitch up Dad's wound.

"C'mon, Pete, let's go get some juice. Shit," he remarked suddenly, "We left Neo home alone,"

But I just cried as Pops took me to the vending machine to get a soda and wait for Dad to be released.

When we arrived back home Neo was there to greet us. He became cautious when he approached Dad, who was in crutches for a week, and looked up at him worriedly. "I'm fine, Neo," Dad said wishing he could pet the dog into reassurance. For the rest of the night Neo didn't leave Dad's side. He was careful when he jumped up next to him and sat patiently at his side. "Good dog," he cooed scratching behind his ears.

"Time for bed," Pops said patting my back to go upstairs to my room. I changed quickly and hopped in bed. "What you did tonight, I want to thank you, Peter."

"You're not mad?" I asked hugging my teddy bear close.

"I'm a little upset that you rushed out in the line of fire, but…you saved us. That man probably would have shot me if you hadn't distracted him. You're a hero, Pete."

"Like you and Dad?"

"Yes."

I grew happy and I went to hug my Pops. When my arms circled around his neck I noticed, on each wrist, very red, swollen spots where whateverthehellthatwas shot from my wrist earlier. He hugged back and noticed my gaze at my hands. He pulled them into his own and examined them.

"Want to have Uncle Bruce look at them?" he asked and I nodded. "I'll call him up in the morning."

He read me a story before I finally fell asleep and I had dreams of spiders.


	4. Chapter 4

As funny as it would seem, I don't remember talking to Uncle Bruce about my wrists, but I do remember that we had discovered that I had spider-like abilities. I could climb any wall, I had the senses, and I could apparently shoot spider web out of my fucking wrists. Needless to say I was extremely excited yet horrifically terrified all at the same time.

I remember sitting on the stairs hidden from the kitchen holding Neo as Dads argued about if I should be homeschooled, still attend school, or transfer to a different school all-together with my new-found abilities.

They agreed to keep me in the school I was attending already to ensure I kept my friends and I knew my teachers. After I got Neo I didn't see a point in making new friends, or keeping up with the old ones, for that matter. Neo was enough for me because he made me happy.

School started up on the twenty-eight and I was extremely sad to leave Neo at home. "I'll take care of him, I promise," Pops had said as I got on the bus. I looked down at a confused Neo on a leash and I jumped down, gave him a quick hug, and bolted back on the bus.

"Nice mutt, Parker," one of the school bullies exclaimed from the back.

"He's not a mutt, he's a Collie," I said slouching in my seat. I had a cell phone in case of emergencies with my Dads being superhero's and all. I only used it in dire emergencies like: the bus braking down and one of them has to pick me up, if I miss the bus, or if I'm going to a friend's house instead. I've never received a call from them about any emergency, and I would never complain about that. But my phone buzzed in my backpack and I whirled it around and pulled the device out.

"_Have a good day, Pete! Look, Neo misses you_" and attached to the text message was a picture of Neo with his ears bent back and his tail wrapped around his paws as he sat on the cement at the bus stop. I stared at the picture for a long minute, figured out how to save it as my phone wallpaper, and hugged the phone to my chest. I knew today was going to be Hell.

The few new weeks of the school year were, in fact, Hell. My friends had decided to, well, not be my friends anymore because I had two Dads. I didn't know why they didn't like it except for the fact that I didn't have a Mom. I didn't care at first, but then the other kids began making fun of me.

I didn't tell Dads, of course, I just kept it to myself until one of my old friends decided to corner me at the bus stop. The bus stop was about a five minute walk from my house, and I knew Pops couldn't see that far.

"Your parents are disgusting!" he yelled at me throwing my backpack on the ground.

"Stop," I declared quietly not meeting his gaze.

"You think you can be in the same school as us? You're _infected_, Peter. Infected! Your parents are boys, and that's gross!" he pushed me.

"Don't touch me," I began crying.

"Oh, look, now you're crying! Gonna go cry back to your two, gross Dads?" he pushed me hard enough for me to fall back onto the cement. I felt my hands scrape against the ground and I quickly withdrew them to see blood prickling out of the tiny new scrapes.

"Derek, stop!" I exclaimed looking up at him.

"You shouldn't exist! You shouldn't even be living! No one wanted you except two boys who can't have kids!"

And I snapped. I jumped him and we landed in the street. I started swinging punches and managed to cause a good-sized bruise on his left cheek, but he was bigger and stronger than I was and pushed me so he was on top. He busted my nose, I screamed in pain, and punched me in the face multiple times.

He punched me until I could barley catch my breath and I could feel blood staining my face. One of the ladies that lived across the street ran over and pulled my friend off. "Wait until I have your parents on the phone, Mister!" she exclaimed but he jolted down the road to his house. My neighbor would have chased him if it weren't for me laying on the ground having a slight concussion. "Alright, c'mon, can you sit up?" she asked and I nodded. She pulled out her hankie and began to gently wipe the blood from my face. "Let's get you cleaned up a little more before I take you home, alright?" she smiled at me and I nodded.

_Infected._

She took me back to her house, her husband immediately came to assist his wife as soon as I entered, and she walked me to the bathroom. She put the lid down and I sat on top of the toilet as she lathered up some soapy water. The two talked about what my friend had done and how my parents were going to react about it, but I didn't care. I was _infected_.

It was about half and hour later and they walked me to my house, rang the doorbell, and Pops opened the door. "Oh, hi, Misses…" and I could feel his eyes on my face. "Peter! What happened?" he exclaimed crouching down grabbing my shoulders. I looked away.

"Him and Derek Ellings had a fight at the bus stop," my neighbor explained. "He was bloodied up pretty bad. If he acts funny the next day or so I'd take him to the hospital," she said.

Pops was silent as he examined my face. "Peter, look at me," he said so gentle that I felt my eyes move to his. "Did he start it?" he asked his voice smooth and kind. I nodded. "Alright, I'll call his parents tonight." He stood up and held out his hand, "Thank you so much for looking after my son, it means the world to me," he said showing a kind smile. My neighbor shook his hand.

"If he ever needs anything, I'll always be watching him when he gets on and of the bus to make sure nothing like that happens again," she said and she turned to leave.

"C'mon, Peter. Neo's waiting for you," he said leading me inside.

I remember when Dad came home he took one look at my face, Pops said who it was, and darted to the front door. "Tony, I've already talked to his parents! There's nothing more we can do. He's not _our_ son, we can't punish him."

"I'd like to bet on that!" Dad yelled. "Who has the nerve to beat up Iron Man and Captain America's fucking kid?" He was pacing now. That wasn't good. "Who does that shitty brat think he is!"

"Tony, language."

I took a small bite of my potato as Neo licked my toes.

"Did he call you any names, Peter? What did he say? I want to know why the littler fucker had the nerve to touch you."

"I think my nose is broken." I stated bluntly ignoring the two. It was painful to breathe or to touch it and it was a lovely shade of purple and blue.

"Good. Let's go to the hospital and charge that damned Ellings family for your medical bills." Dad said getting up from the table.

"I don't think you should go like this, Tony, you really need to calm down,"

"ME? CALM DOWN?" he yelled so loud Neo scattered to the dining room.

"Yes." Pops simply said. It took a couple of long, stressed minutes before Dad finally sat back down at the dinner table.

"Sorry for the temper, Peter," he tried sounding calm but his frame shook with anger.

"It's fine, Dad," I replied stuffing another potato into my mouth.

"If your nose really is broken we should go now before it causes any permanent damage," Pops said. "But, Tony, I think you should stay and watch Neo. I'll call up the Ellings's and tell them what's going on. His parents seemed very apologetic and concerned for Peter, I'm sure they'll pay for the bills."

And they did. I had a damn cast thing on my nose for five weeks and it hurt to do anything that involved it. Like breathing, sniffing, laughing, or trying to wipe a runny nose. It sucked so badly.

My parents told the principle about the incident with my friend and he suspended Derek. Dad wanted to push for expulsion, but the principle didn't have the authority if it wasn't on school grounds.

"The next time that Ellings shit touches you, you go Spider on his ass, alright?" Dad told me picking me up from school. They no longer allowed me to ride the bus.

"Does that mean I can beat him up like he did me?" I asked basically clarifying my Dad's new blessing.

"Yes. You know I'm loaded, so if you punch the kid into a coma it might make us cut back on excessive salon visits." That was his way of saying it wasn't going to affect anything.


	5. Chapter 5

So I've never really told you how I got babysat when I was a wee child. When danger called, Dads would call my neighbor and hit the road to fight crime with the other Avengers. My neighbor is a psycho, okay?

He told me these weird stories about World War I, may I remind you he's probably thirty-six or something, so he's obviously never fought in WWI before. But he tells me about how aliens caused the whole thing because they were trying to take over the world, and that dogs and cats were their "bodies" here on Earth. So he never forgot to inform me that Neo was probably an alien trying to infiltrate my home and kill the Avengers.

But on occasion, like Dads's anniversary or they wanted a date-night, Natasha and Clint, or sometimes Bruce would come babysit me.

It was on this night that Dad's had their fifteenth anniversary, I was thirteen, and was going out for the entire weekend. I packed up a few over-night things, got Neo's stuff together, and Uncle Clint and Aunty Tasha came to pick me up to stay at their place.

I'd been to their house for a few Thanksgivings and Christmases, but never had I actually stayed over for a weekend.

"Help yourself to the pantry anytime you want," Uncle Clint began, "Just don't use the stove without us being here, but you can totally use the microwave whenever you want, bud. We bought a couple of mini frozen pizzas for your, Steve said you liked those, and we also bought some pudding, and…nutella and grape jelly for your…sandwiches."

"Have you even ever tried one?" I asked as Neo sat next to me. He was in his early teenage years now and was up to my hip. I never expected him to be such a huge dog, but I didn't care, he was my best friend.

"No, I haven't, but it sounds repulsive." Uncle Clint said leading me to the living room.

"Dad likes them," I stated, "He also likes popcorn with cheese on it,"

"See that, that I can understand as being good." He said smiling. "Alright, here's how you work the remote…" and he showed me how to turn on the TV, run the DVD player, and took me to their massive DVD collection. "Tasha went out to get a couple things from headquarters, so it's just you and me until about eight or so," he said messing up my hair.

We started watching some action movie that was playing on TV that Uncle Clint was determined to make me watch, I can't recall the name of it, and Neo sat down at the foot of the couch under my feet. I could feel each hair brush against my toes, I could smell the lavender perfume Aunty Tasha sprayed on this morning, and I could hear Uncle Clint playing with his fingernails. This was all second nature to me now, listening and observing the faint. I could easily pick out things that no one would notice. My Dads began calling me Sherlock when I would point something so miniscule and hidden by the untrained eye.

Aunty Tasha came home, as predicted, by eight o'clock, and Uncle Clint had made us spaghetti. We all sat around their small table and I listened to them talk.

"So, Peter, how old is Neo?" Aunty Tasha asked wiping her mouth.

"He's three." I said taking a sip of water.

"Where did you get the name 'Neo'? Is it from the Matrix?" she asked with a cute smile on her face.

"No," I said smiling in return, "It's short for Neapolitan,"

"Oh my God, that is so cute! It's cause he's different colors, right?" she asked me excited and I nodded.

"Yeah, I like it too," Uncle Clint didn't say anything and held back his laugh. "You can laugh about it, Dad laughs at his real name all the time,"

"N-no, I'm fine," he said covering his mouth.

The night went on without flaw. I fell asleep on the couch watching Star Wars: A New Hope and woke up at around 4am to go to my bed in their guest room. "Hey, buddy," I said smiling down at my sleepy dog. I scratched behind his ears and got up. He stood with me and we walked side-by-side to the room. He jumped up on the foot of the bed and I curled under the blankets and stared at the ceiling. I had night vision and was never afraid of the dark after my little…blessing.

I woke up early the next morning and Aunty Tasha had made me pancakes for breakfast. I sat at the table and Neo lay under the table. "Thank you for making this," I said smiling.

"No problem, cutie," she said.

Uncle Clint walked out of their bedroom about twenty minutes later, I was still eating. (I eat slow, okay?) He was in his pajamas and came over to Tasha, gave her a quick kiss, and served himself a couple of flap-jacks.

I sat down to watch cartoons and felt nauseated. It wasn't like I wanted to throw up or anything, I just felt really uneasy. I told them I was going outside to take Neo on a walk around their neighborhood and they said it was fine. "Make sure you keep your phone on you," Aunty Tasha called as I left with Neo's leash, and the two of us began on a long walk.

That entire day went on with me feeling like that and I finally told Clint and Tasha I wasn't feeling well.

"Here's some pepto and go take a hot bath. It should help," Aunty Tasha informed and I did as instructed.

It still didn't help.

Sunday finally arrived and I was sitting in the backseat with Neo ready to go home. I went in with Aunty and Uncle behind me and I went into the kitchen were Dad was sitting. "Where's Pops?" I asked setting my bag down. Neo went up and began licking Dad's hands.

"He had to run a few errands," he said rather sternly.

"Oh, alright," I said.

Dad looked up at me forcing a smile, "Did you have a good weekend?"

"Yeah," I said, "I got a stomach ache yesterday, but it's gone now," I lied. It was still there tugging at the knots in my gut.

"That's good." He got up and his smile disappeared when he faced his two friends, "Thank you so much for watching him over the weekend,"

"No problem, Tony," Uncle Clint said. "He's always welcome at our place. He's practically an angel,"

"Practically," Dad laughed. "Do you two want to stay for dinner? Steve was going to make lasagna,"

"Sure!" Tasha said as the three of them went to sit down in the living room to talk up a storm.

Pops arrived home a few hours later with grocery bags. "Hey Pete, will you help bring these in? There are a few more bags in the car," he said and I, of course, went to help. I was trying to train Neo to hold a bag in his mouth, but he just couldn't seem to grasp it. He was the smartest dog I'd ever known. Maybe it wasn't that he couldn't take groceries inside, maybe it was that he didn't want to do it.

Sitting at the dining table with everyone my stomach became so upset that I couldn't eat. I picked at my food and began to sweat and shake. I took a long swig of water to try and calm down, but I just couldn't.

"Peter…are you alright?" the voice was distant and echoed in my head. The food on my plate looked repulsive, I remember the smell of the cheese and sauce getting to my head and my stomach flopped and I felt sick.

I ran to the bathroom and threw my guts up. It burned and hurt and I started to cry. Something was wrong and my body was trying to tell me. I could feel a hand on my back and words were being spoken to me, but I couldn't hear them. My inner sirens were blaring and trying to tell me something was utterly wrong.

I heaved again and this time it was dry. Everything in my stomach was gone and I slouched back into someone's lap. I was still crying and I covered my face embarrassment and I could finally hear Dad's voice. "You're fine, Peter. No one was watching. It's just me." I'd never heard his voice that gentle before. "Here," he placed a damp cloth on the back of my neck as I tried to steady my breathing. "You must have gotten a nasty bug of some sort," I would let him believe that.

I was sent to be with a heated blanket and a bowl beside my bed. I lay there staring at the ceiling. I could feel Neo crawl up towards me and I placed a hand on his neck to play with his collar.

And then I heard it for the first time.

"_You're so selfish, you know that?_"

"_Peter was sick and you just sat there!_"

"_I'm sorry, I'm not being fatherly enough for you?_"

"_You should have come to help him_!"

"_I assumed you had it under control!_"

It was the first fight I could hear, and it surely wouldn't be the last.


	6. Chapter 6

It was my fourteenth birthday and I had asked for nothing. My Dads stared dumbfounded when they had asked I had said 'I don't want anything. I have Neo and you both,"

They still threw me a surprise birthday party with all of the Avengers, except Thor who was off in Asgard, and all sat in the living room as I opened each gift individually.

Aunty Tasha and Uncle Clint bought me a year's worth of Karate lessons, Uncle Bruce got me my own chemistry set, and Dads, as requested, didn't give me anything.

"Thanks everyone," I stated honestly excited about my gifts. I took a bite of my chocolate cake feeding Neo just a tiny piece. I didn't want to get him sick, but he had to be part of the festivities too, right?

At that moment all of their phones went off in alert. They all gave eachother quick glances and then looked apologetically at me. I knew what it was. I smiled and scratched Neo's ear, "Go. I'll be fine," I had finally convinced my parents I didn't need a babysitter and they trusted me on that.

The five of them left in a hurry leaving me watching them disappear down the road. I hated staying behind. I never wanted to be part of SHEILD, really, I just wanted to help out. Dads said I couldn't fight crime because I was:

Too young

Not strong enough

And I had to watch Neo

Needless to say I was furious about the strength part, but in all honesty I knew it was to protect me so I would never get hurt. I tried to fight with them on it, but I knew it was a useless fight.

Dads had been fighting almost every night now and I couldn't help but blame myself. I never talked to anyone about it because I was secluded in school. My old friends spread rumors about me, pulled nasty pranks on me, but never tried to beat me up again. I was thankful for that, but sometimes I wished I did have one good human friend. Don't get me wrong, Neo was the best pal ever. He sat with me while I waited, slept with me, sometimes took showers with me if I was feeling risky of getting in trouble, and did…everything with me. I tried to never think about how long he was going to live. I just wanted to live in the moment with him, and that was enough for me.

Time began ticking fast and soon it was past midnight. I had school the next morning so I made my way up to my bedroom and changed into some pajamas. Neo got to his spot on my bed and waiting for me to crawl under the covers with him. I smiled as I scratched his nose and finally lay my head down.

I'm not sure what time it was when I heard the front door open and Dad was boasting about their win. I jumped out of bed, Neo at my heels, as we raced down and I hugged both of them.

"Did we wake you?" Pops asked.

"I'm happy you're both okay," I stated letting go of them. They smiled at me, Dad ruffled my hair, and Pops sighed.

"Sorry we make you worry so much, Pete," Dad said.

"I just wish I could help,"

"You know our thoughts about that," Pops whispered not wanting to offend me.

"I know," I said, "But I just wanted to say night, I'll see you guys in the morning," I said going back to my room.

I pressed the timer on my nightstand and waited exactly twenty minutes.

"_You need to shut up sometimes, Tony. Not every moment needs a snarky remark!_"

"_You're one to talk. I wasn't the one trying to have a full on conversation with the man trying to blow downtown up,_"

"_I was stalling him! It's strategy!_"

No kid should have to listen to this before they go to sleep at night, nor should they be so accustomed to it that it's almost like a lullaby.

The next months went the same as usual: I got picked on at school, didn't tell my parents, struggled to keep my grades up, came home, listened to my parents secretly fight and then I'd repeat the next day.

But it was on this one night that I was home alone, Dads were out with Aunty Tasha and Uncle Clint for dinner and drinks, and Neo and I were watching Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol.

It was about midway through when I heard my phone go off in my room. I ran up, saw that Pops was calling, and answered, "Hey."

"We're going to be home a little late tonight. Lock all the doors and we'll see you in the morning," I could hear Dad laughing at Uncle Clint's joke.

"Alright. Have fun, drive safe," I said as we both hung up.

I went back down to Neo and continued the movie. I knew I had fallen asleep at some point because I woke up to a click at the front door. I went out to greet my parents, but the person outside of the door was dressed in all black and was hunched over at the lock. My nerves jumped through the roof and I grabbed Neo in my arms and darted back into the living room. He began to growl and I shushed him up. The door opened and I peered around the wall and watched the man move into the kitchen. He began rummaging through cabinets and I inched my way to him. He kept the lights off, but that didn't bother me. I could see him as though he were standing in the sun.

"You must be desperate," I started. He screamed and jumped at my appearance and went to flick the light on. I had my arms crossed and my brows furrowed, "to be breaking into Iron Man and Captain America's home."

"Go back to sleep, kid, we'll act like this never happened." He snarled.

"Nah, we're going to go with my plan." I stated, "You're going to put everything back that you have in your bag, you're going to sit on the couch while I call my Dads, and then you'll go to prison with the rest of your friends."

He didn't give me the time to answer; he pulled out a long knife from the side of his pants and charged at me. I easily dodged his attack but he whirled back around and managed to cut my cheek. I felt a little blood trail down my face, but I didn't let this distract me. I shot web at his face and he dropped the knife clawing at my mark. I wasn't quick enough to grab the knife from under his feet, because he grabbed it and stabbed it into my back left shoulder. I screamed in pain and collapsed to the floor. I had felt the blade rip through each muscle as the point stuck out from my front.

"Shit!" the guy yelled darting from the kitchen, but Neo went into action and jumped him before he reached the front door.

I started to cry from the pain in my shoulder and fumbled my way to the counter where the house phone was kept.

There was a lot of racket from the front foyer, but soon everything went quiet as I finally reached the phone. I dialed the police who in turn called an ambulance for my aid. Neo came into the kitchen with blood smeared all down his front. His ears were back as he cautiously made his way to me, but everything began to spin as the puddle of blood beneath me grew bigger.

"Neo…police are coming…don't…hurt them…okay?" I asked him as he sat by my side. I blacked out and woke up in the hospital. My parents weren't there yet and I assumed I hadn't been out that long, but when the nurse came in to check my vitals I asked, "Where's Dad and Pops?"

"They're trying their best to get here," she said simply. I didn't know what that meant but I took it as they were trying their hardest. My shoulder burned so badly I almost couldn't stand it. I squinted my eyes shut to try and block out the pain, but it was to no avail. "I'm giving you a high dosage of Vicadin, alright? It's going to numb the pain," and she shot something into my IV bag. It didn't take ten minutes before I felt funny and my vision began to swim. And then it hit me and I was out.

I woke up again and this time my parents were at my bedside. "Hey, soldier!" Pops exclaimed as I woke. The Vicadin was still in full effect and I slurred some words out that I didn't connect to make a proper sentence. "You don't have to talk, we're just happy you're okay," he said.

"You were very brave, Peter," Dad added in taking my hand.

I managed out, "Neo?"

"He's at home waiting. He took the criminal out for you." Dad smiled, "And nothing is going to be charged against us for Neo's killing because it was self defense."

I didn't understand what either of them was saying and I closed my eyes feeling my shoulder prickle back to life.

I was released from the hospital the next day with high painkillers and a bed sentence of a week. That week I was so doped on meds that I don't remember it, but when I started to go back to school I found a new determination. I thought about all of the people that are robbed on a daily basis, how people die and ruin others' families, how things are taken away in the blink of an eye all for the sake of a little more cash in their pocket.

Regardless of what Dads wanted me to do, I would have to make new friends and use them as my excuse to fight crime.


	7. Chapter 7

I honestly didn't know how to make friends. I had been so used to flying solo with Neo that I had forgotten how to socialize. I knew I wasn't going to be friends with my old crew, so I had to scout out new kids.

Being fifteen, most of you know what it's like to go through school with little to no friends. It sucks ass and I don't know how to explain it otherwise.

So there I was sitting in Algebra 1 looking at all of my classmates. I've known all of them since kindergarten give or take a few new ones, and I knew what most of them were like.

Honestly, I wanted nothing to do with them, but…it was a new obligation to make friends and I had to try.

It was lunch and I was about to sit at my normal, empty table but then I went over to a table of other kids and asked, "Can I sit with you guys?"

They all got quiet for a second and then one of them says, "Don't you have invisible friends to hang with?"

So I took that extremely subtle hint and moved back to my table. I sat down alone, like I did everyday and could hear them laughing at me. I tried not to get worked up about it, so I took a deep breath, took a long swig of my water, and finished eating. Maybe today wasn't the day to make friends.

It went on like that for two weeks. Basically everyone in my class either wouldn't talk to me, made fun of me, or completely ignored me, so I ended up holding back a cry on the way back from home when Dad or Pops would pick me up. They knew I didn't have friends, and that never seemed to faze them.

"How was school today?" Pops asked robotically as I strapped the seatbelt over my chest.

"Same," I said feeling the strong lump in my throat. I had to fight it. I couldn't let Pops see me cry.

"Anything exciting happen today?"

"Not really," I said trying to calm myself down, "We had a pop quiz in English and I think I did alright on it," and my voice cracked and my throat gave out and I felt my eyes tear up.

Pops looked at me and I looked out the window to avoid his scolding eyes. "You alright?"

"Y-yeah, just got something caught in my throat," I said faking a cough.

"Alright…" he trailed off. It was awkward between us for a moment before he started talking about how Uncle Clint got stuck in the rafters at SHEILD headquarters because he was told to spy on a new agent.

We arrived home and I darted to my room. I slammed my face into my pillow, ignoring Neo scratching at the door, and cried.

Another two weeks passed and I had given up on trying to look for a new friend, so I went back to my normal 'Don't say anything. Look straight ahead' motives.

But then _he_ joined our school. Algebra 1 was my homeroom and all new kids were introduced during this time. He had his hood over his face and his hands dug deep into his pockets.

"Everyone," the teacher began, "This is Wade Wilson. He doesn't want to say anything so he's just going to take his seat. Remember, be nice."

He sat in the open desk in front of me and he put his head down into his arms and ignored the rest of the class.

I wanted to ask him to hang out, but I couldn't get the balls to do anything for three days, on a Friday.

"Hey, Wade," I said running up next to him. He looked at me hiding from under his hood and then back to the hallway infront of him. "I'm Peter, I sit behind you in Alge-"

"I know who you are." He said.

"O-oh, you do?" I asked and he nodded. "Well, I was, um, wondering if you'd, um,"

"If I'd what?" he stopped and looked at me keeping his hood low.

"Well, um, I see no one's really talked to you yet so I thought I'd, um, wow I'm not good at this. I want to be your friend."

He stared at me for a hard second and then looked down at his shoes chuckling. "Who put you up to this?"

It was my turn to stare, "What…um, no one put me up to this. I want to be your friend,"

"Why's that?" he was still smiling.

I just came out with it, "I've been going to school with these assholes for my entire life and I've never had one good friend except for my dog. I thought since you're new and don't have any friends yet that we were in the same boat to a certain degree. I can fuck off if you want, but I'm putting it out there now."

Wade's smile went away and he looked back down at his shoes.

"I'll take that as a no," and I began walking off completely giving up.

"I didn't say 'no', did I?" Wade snapped. "I'll be your friend." He said catching up to me.

What was I supposed to do? I'd never done something like this with new friends before. Mostly because I'd never made friends before. "I'm Peter Parker," I said sticking my hand out.

He took his hood off revealing his short, brunette hair and his crystal blue eyes. "Wade Wilson." He took my hand and shook it. I couldn't help but smile and he returned it. "And…your dog?" he asked.

I blushed embarrassed. "Y-yeah," I laughed nervously. "I have a five year old Collie,"

"That's cool, I like dogs, too. What's her name?" he asked as we made our way to the cafeteria.

"_His_ name is Neo."

"Like from the Matrix?"

"No, no, it's short for something else,"

"Oh, like what?"

"Nevermind about that," I said easily brushing it off, "What kind of music do you listen to?" And then our friendship skyrocketed.

When Dad came to pick me up he was on a conference call when I got in the car. I wove to Wade, he did so too, and we left home.

Dad got done with his call a few minutes later and asked, "How was your day?" he asked.

"Same," I answered.

"Anything new happen?"

"I made a friend." I said still surprised by today.

He looked over at me and smiled, "Really?"

"Yeah. His name is Wade, he's really cool. We have a lot of things in common,"

"That's awesome, Pete!" he exclaimed happily. "We should celebrate tonight! We'll get Chinese take-out and I'll let you have a beer or something,"

"You know I can't drink with my new abilities," I laughed. "But Chinese sounds good,"

Dad honestly looked so excited for me, and normal kids would take it offensively, but they both knew my situation with growing up with two Dads and it wasn't easy in the least, and if new friends meant Chinese food then I was all for it.

The next month was awesome.

And the month after that.

And the one following that one.

Wade made no remark on my Dads and even enjoyed being around them. We started inviting him over to dinner, we had sleepovers, we begged our parents to start skateboarding, but both our parents declined. Wade only had a mother, his father passed away when he was ten, so he quite enjoyed hanging out at my place with Dad and Pops.

I had never told Wade about my amazing abilities, but that Christmas, Wade turned sixteen on the eighteenth of December, him and I went out to the game store to pick up his gift. The new Assassins Creed had come out and he had begged me for it, so I saved up and reserved a copy at the shop.

"Peter, oh my God, I'm so excited!" Wade exclaimed practically jumping up and down as we walked down the long stretch of the mall corridor.

"Calm down, people are going to think we're trying to steal or something," I said all grins at my friend's excitement.

We went to the counter at Game Stop, I told him my name, he gave me the copy, and I paid. I handed the game to Wade and he held it in his hands staring at it for a long minute. Without warning he hugged me, "Thank you." He said into my ear and I hugged back.

"You're welcome. Happy birthday," I said as we separated. "I still got you a Christmas gift," I chuckled.

"You should stop." He said, "I don't deserve any of this. I know I had begged you for this game, but…you honestly didn't have to. Nor do you have to give me a Christmas gift. Your friendship is enough for me."

"You sound like a chick-flick," I laughed, "I'm doing these things because I _want_ to Wade, not because anyone is making me or asking me to. I never ask anything in return because I don't expect it, I do these things because I _honestly_ want to."

"I can't believe I thought someone had put you up to being my friend when we first met," he said quietly. "You're…you're great, Peter. No one has ever been this kind to me before,"

"Just don't think about it." I said. "C'mon, I'm hungry," I said tugging him to the food court.

On our way there, talking about something or another about the last Assassins Creed game, some of the school bullies noticed us and came over.

"Look, it's Parson. Inseparable and joined at the hips just like Parker's parents," one of them teased.

"Shut it, Raymond," Wade snapped getting in front of me.

"New game? I've been wanting it. Wanna trade the game so I don't have to beat you up?" his group of friends drew closer.

"Just leave us alone," I piped up.

"Game or knuckle sandwich."

Wade jumped at him and Raymond swung a fist. I could see the security guards take notice across the way and began towards us. "Wade, stop!" I declared trying to pull him away. But Raymond shoved me aside and pushed Wade up against the railing. He punched him sending blood down his lips and threw another fist. Just before the security guards got hold of our brawl, Raymond pushed Wade over the railing.

Instinct took over and I shot my web at the ceiling, jumped over the edge, and shot another web at Wade grabbing him just before he hit the ground. I swung him up into my arm, he was clutching onto my jacket for dear life, and we landed on the first floor.

"FREAK!" Raymond screamed.

"Let's go!" I pulled Wade to the exit and we started to run.

When we exited the mall I dialed Dad to pick us up. Wade was quiet while I was on the phone, but when I was done he looked hard at me. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I was quiet, "It's not something I'm comfortable talking about." I said.

He was quiet again and nodded, "Thank you." He said. "For saving my life."

And then I remembered what I originally wanted friends for. I looked down at my feet like I had watched Wade do the first time we met and sighed, "It was nothing," I said.

"You've done all of this shit for me and I've done nothing to return it. I don't deserve to be your friend, you deserve someone better,"

I looked at him and said, "Don't you dare say those words again. If you say you're unworthy to be my friend one more time I'm going to rebreak your nose."

He laughed and nodded, "Alright, alright,"

When Dad picked us up he scolded us for fighting in a public setting, took Wade to the hospital, and then we went home.


	8. Chapter 8

It was close the twentieth of December and Dad, Pops and I were sitting at the table eating steak and potatoes. It was my favorite meal, well, because they asked what I wanted to eat. Dad never cooks, or when he does it's something simple like toast or cereal, and that's not technically cooking, but Pops is the chef in the family and I adore his meals to no end.

It was awkwardly quiet at the dinner table and I glanced over at the brightly lit Christmas tree in the living room that Wade and I had decorated. Dad was atheist, but he wanted to show holiday spirit for Pops, so he let us put it up. I was admiring it for a couple minutes when Dad said, "Peter, we want to talk to you about something."

"Yeah, what is it?" I asked pulling my attention back on them putting another hunk of steak in my mouth.

"Well, your father and I have been talking about…our future and you're part of it, so we're…" he trailed off. I got that feeling my stomach again. I immediately stopped eating. Pops didn't say anything and this worried me further. "You see, we've been talking about this for quite some time, and we think you're old enough now, so…"

"So…what? I'm confused." I stated with more heartbreak in my voice. My stomach began to churn and my throat was swelling up. _No no no no no._

Pops just came out with it, "Pete, we're getting a divorce."

I dropped my fork. "Excuse me?" I knew they were arguing everyday, and I should have been expecting this, but…I wasn't. I wasn't prepared and my emotions finally began to show themselves.

"Peter, please don't cry…" Dad said rubbing his face with his hands.

I hadn't noticed I was crying until he'd said this and I looked down at my now disgusting meal. "You can't." I simply said.

"It's…already been finalized. I'm moving out next week," Dad stated.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I barked looking at both of them, "You should have said…something! Is it…is it because I'm failing? Am I not…am I not good enough?"

"Oh my God, Peter, stop!" Pops yelled, "This is NOT your fault! Don't you dare put this blame on yourself!"

"Peter, don't!" Dad stepped in.

I put my hands against my face and tried calming myself down. This wasn't happening. It couldn't happen. It wouldn't happen. They were in love, they had me, they had this house, and…Neo. We were a family, right? Families stick together through thick and thin, don't they?

"Peter, we're honestly sorry. We've been fighting this for a long time and it's just…it's time to end it." Dad tried to explain, but it didn't help.

"So you stuck around for me? That's it?" I barked lifting my head. Pops couldn't look me in the eyes.

"Please try to understand." I just stood and left the table. "Where are you going?"

I didn't reply. I got to the front door, slammed it open, and ran. I didn't know where I was running to, but I ran as fast as I could. I left my cellphone at home and I didn't have any cash on me. I'd return home later, but I needed to not be in the room with them.

I found myself sitting outside of the local library. I sat on the steps to catch my breath. The thought hadn't come into my head for years, and I thought I had repressed it, but the more I kept thinking that Dad and Pops weren't going to be together the more I thought about it.

_Infected._

I had to be, right? At school I was repulsed by everyone except Wade, my neighbors shied away from our house, and I was just…_infected._ That was the only explanation. Dad didn't want to be around a diseased kid like me. I was failing all of my classes threatening to drop out, my abilities weren't even used for good like I had planed them too, and everything was my fault. If I wasn't adopted then maybe…maybe they'd have a chance. Maybe they would still be happy together and not getting a divorce. I had to punish myself. No one causing this much pain between two people should deserve anything better.

But how?

I don't know how long I sat there for, it seemed like minutes but soon I could see the sun rise. I didn't want to go to school anymore. I didn't want to go back home. I didn't want to exist. Everything was my fault. Maybe if I sat here long enough I would just disappear and everything would be alright in the world. Wade would find better friends, Pops and Dad would stay together, and Neo….oh, Neo. Would he miss me if I ran away? Would he cry at night? Would Pops feed him at the right times? Use the right shampoo?

Soon traffic began to pick up and busses were going down different streets to pick up students. I got up and decided to walk somewhere else.

I took my time walking down random streets and before I knew it I was in downtown Manhattan. I looked up at all of the skyscrapers wondering what type of people worked in them, if anyone of them lived there, if they were married, had kids, or divorced.

I still didn't know the time and I was at Ground Zero. I looked over the walls that protected it and glanced at the memorial. I'd been there once with Dads. It was for the forth of July or something and Pops wanted to come see it. He wasn't unfrozen at that point so he wasn't able to experience the terrorist attack. I mean, I wasn't either, but Dad said he remembered how terrible it was of what America had to go through.

I sat outside one of the buildings for a short minute letting my feet rest. The door man came over to tell me to move, but I asked him for five minute to rest my feet and I'd be off. He let me stay there for a while longer and then I made my way further into the depths of Manhattan.

The sun began to set and I found myself in Wade's neighborhood. I walked to his front door not even sure if he was home, and rang the doorbell. I knew my hair was gross and my clothing were a little dirty, and I'm sure I looked fairly tired, and when Wade's mother answered the door I draw a small smile. "Hey Misses Wilson, is Wade home?"

"Oh my gosh, Peter! What happened? What am I saying, come inside!" she let me in and she closed the door. "Wade's out getting a few things for me, but he'll be back shortly. Are you hungry? I was making dinner, but we'll have plenty if you want to stay,"

I nodded unable to feel my voice anymore. I was numb. I couldn't feel anything. I didn't know if I was hungry or tired or…anything. But I sat down in the living room that joined to their kitchen and watched Fox 6 O'clock News.

Wade arrived a little past six-thirty and was surprised to see me. "Peter! Hey! You didn't call me, everything okay?" he asked and I didn't do anything. I just stared at him and felt my emotions toil with me again. I looked down at the carpet.

"Dads are getting a divorce." I whispered. I knew Wade had heard me because he dropped the few bags he had in his hands and came over and hugged me.

"Man, I'm so sorry." He whispered back to me. I clung to his jacket and buried my face into his neck and cried.

We sat like that for a long while until I heard my stomach growl. Wade laughed at me as he led me into the kitchen. We ate and I asked if I could stay there the night.

"Do your parents know you're here?" Ms. Wade asked me and I shook my head.

"I've been gone since…yesterday." It felt like longer than that.

"My dear, you should really call them and tell them you're alright."

"Yeah," I said nodding sipping my soda.

I did call later that evening. It was late, but I called and on the second ring Pops picked up.

"Peter?"

"Hey, Pops," I said quietly. "I'm at Wade's."

"Thank God. We've been searching everywhere for you," Yet they didn't check my best friend's house.

"Yeah, sorry."

I then heard Dad on the other end "_You tell that brat to get home now. He's in deep shit._"

"Listen, Pops, I'll be home in the morning." And I hung up.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: WOW okay, hi everyone! Thank you SOOOOO much for taking the time to read this! I know this chapter is short, but I'm at work and I don't have that long to sit and think about some chapters. You are all fantastic and I hope you continue reading more! Things'll look up for Petey, I promise! Just…after this chapter. LOL. Okay. LOVE YOU ALL! Thanks again for reading!

I couldn't sleep that night. I lay next to Wade on his queen bed thinking about everything again.

"Wade, you up?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Thanks for letting me stay over…" my voice was weak and my stomach hurt.

"You know you never have to thank me or let me know if you want to stay. Mi casa es tu casa."

"And um…" I was never good with fluffy things, "I just want to tell you, and I know we haven't been friends for very long, but I wanted to thank you for staying with me."

"I'm not your friend," he said, "I'm your best friend."

"Sorry…"

"No, stop. Stop apologizing and thanking me for everything." He rolled on his side to look at me. "You don't need to do those things. You said the other day that you do things because you want to, that you never expect to receive anything in return, I'm the same way. I do these things because you're my best friend and that'll never change. You need a place to stay or need my shoulder to cry on again, I'm always here no matter what the situation is for. Got that?"

I nodded looking at him now. My eyes began to sting and I felt another cry coming on. "D-do you…do you think it's my fault?"

At first I could see Wade's eyes blur with confusion, and then he understood that I'd changed subjects, "Why would you think that?" I asked.

_Infected_.

"I'm just…I'm so worthless. I'm failing school and…if they didn't adopt me maybe they'd still want to be together."

Wade sat up and looked at me with his piercing, blue eyes. Sometimes I hated them. "I won't listen to you talk like that. It's not your fault. Some people just fall out of love as easily as they fall in love."

"Cause you would know being sixteen and all with all your experience."

"I know because of what my mom tells me. When my Dad died I blamed myself because I had left the candle near the curtain." He'd never talked about his father's death before. "I blamed myself for months because I was convinced he burned alive by my hand. After the house had been cleared and they searched for the cause, they found out that someone threw in a grenade to murder my entire family. Apart from the evidence, I still blame myself to this day because I knew I had to start it. You can't go down the same path I've gone, Peter. This regret…remorse…pain…guilt…you don't want anything like that pushing you down. I know our situations are different, but the blame doesn't leave. It's there. Always pinching your neck making itself known. Their divorce is about _them_. Not you. Please, Peter, don't blame yourself." He looked as though he wanted to cry and I looked away.

I would never tell him my real thought.

_Infected_.

I couldn't. He'd be repulsed and leave me, too.

After a minute or two of Wade still sitting up and me not saying anything and laid down and hugged me. I felt the shoulder of my sleeve get a little damp and I turned my head to see him cry. I rolled over on my side so our foreheads were together. "Don't you ever leave me." I told him. I couldn't lose someone else pushing me to the sidelines.

"I promise I won't."

I returned home the next day. Wade insisted I go to school to further off put my return, but I ditched school and Ms. Wilson drove me home. I walked into the front door and Dad hit me on the side of the head. Hard. I fell to the ground clutching my skull and looked up at him. "DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED WE WERE?" he screamed with such ferocity that I could fell myself sink into the floor. I didn't say anything and he bent down to pull me up. I was scared of him. The way he was grabbing at my clothes for me to stand to face him terrified me. Once standing I backed into the front door watching him raise his hand for another strike.

"Tony, STOP!" Pops ran over grabbing Dad's arm. "He gets it!"

"DOES HE?" I could feel his spit on my face. I was no longer upset, I was scared. Dad had never showed his side of him before and he had hit me. I knew I had deserved it for running out like that, but…he didn't even check Wade's house to see if I was there. He shoved Pops off and pulled me by the collar so we were inches apart. I had my hands pressed against the door, my body was shaking, and I felt a sickening twist in my stomach. Dad saw the fear in my eyes and back away letting my shirt go. "You don't go…running off after we give you…news like that!" he yelled. "You just don't!"

"You didn't even check Wade's house." I whispered.

"What was that?" Dad barked.

"Wade's house! You didn't check!" I yelled back.

Dad hit me again and I fell. I looked up at him a bruise forming on my cheek. "Anthony Edward Stark! FUCKING STOP HITTING OUR SON!" Pops rushed over pushing Dad hard in the chest away from me.

"LITTLE FUCK! BACK TALKING?" his voice shook the house. "I'm leaving TONIGHT!" he pushed Pops away and huffed down to their bedroom.

It was my fault. I was the one tearing them apart. I put a soft hand to my bruised face and Pops came over to help me up. "Peter…are you alright?" he asked with his gentle voice.

I felt my voice crack as I started to cry again, "Perfect." Pops hugged me tightly whispering so many apologies to me.

Minutes later I heard the back door slam shut and just like that Dad was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

I was in a daze for a while. I couldn't remember the last time I remembered eating or sleeping. It was like I was walking on ice, always wanting to fall but keeping my balance to make a good performance.

I got a lot of "It's just a divorce" from people at school. Sure, tons of kids had gone through it, but were they the actual cause? Were they _infected_ like I was? Were they the failure that I was?

I didn't tell Pops I had stopped going to school. He'd figure it out by summer when I would fail the grade. And to be honest, I don't remember what I did those days that I didn't go to school.

Wade grew more and more concerned about me but I made him promise not to tell Pops.

On one of the days I actually attended class I sat in homeroom where Wade was diligently taking notes on some stupid triangle equation while I sketched out doodles of nothing.

He said I was a fuck up, right? That's technically what he'd said. I talked back. Did that mean I was a bad kid? That I talked back and got hit? I deserved it. I knew I did. I also knew and grasped the concept that Pops and Dad had gotten a divorce without telling me prior leaving me in complete and bliss silence, but Dad didn't even say…he didn't even say goodbye.

He made no contact to me or Pops within the last couple months and I didn't want to give up on him, but when Pops said that I was under his legal custody I knew that's what Dad had planned from the start. To leave me.

_I wasn't worth his time_.

Wade put a hand on my shoulder as class finally let out. I stuffed my stuff into my backpack and we walked down to the cafeteria together. I didn't say much these days so Wade filled them with random stories and gossip from around school. I nodded and said words when needed and then I sat down without my lunch. I'd been skipping out on that lately. I just…wasn't hungry much anymore.

"Peter, here, I got you sandwich," Wade said smiling handing me the small meal. I took it hesitantly looking at the contents. I could tell, even wrapped, that the meat was over processed and the cheese was made from byproduct. I didn't want it, but when Wade saw me try to put it down I began unwrapping it. He seemed satisfied with that and I began eating. He continued with another story and I said the appropriate things and soon the rest of the day was a blur.

I found myself sitting on my bed not remembering how the rest of the day had gone, but I had Neo on my lap and I was playing with the collar around his neck.

"Do you get jealous of Wade?" I asked Neo. He looked up at me and wagged his tail. "Of course you don't." I smiled knowing their love was shared. "Good boy." I scratched behind his ear and Pops knocked on my door.

"Dinner's ready," his voice had changed since Dad left. It wasn't that stern, confident tone, it was…lacking, dull, and careful. I walked down to a well balanced meal and sat next to my only father now. "You don't talk much anymore." It wasn't a comment, it was a statement.

"Sorry." I said quietly.

"Peter, you don't have to apologize from not talking, I'm just…worried." We were going to try and have this conversation again.

About a month ago Pops had tried the whole "I'm worried about you. Tell me why." Type thing and it didn't work out. I had run out to Wade's, he called the cops to pick me up, and I was grounded for a week.

"Pops, don't," I whispered into my meal.

"Peter…please. I…I don't want to be alone in this." He'd never said that before. I looked up and his eyes were glassy. "I've tried to be strong, but…" he trailed off covering his mouth just as his lips started to twitch. "I really need you right now, Pete." His gaze said it all. He was hurting like I was. Maybe not in the same ways, but I knew Dad was his love. He didn't want a divorce, Dad did. Dad wanted to run and start a new life without us. He had also been discharged from the Avengers, and I knew it hurt Pops so much. "I'm sorry the way our conversation had…had ended before, but-" he swallowed back a cry and I just got up. I walked over to him and hugged him in his chair. I had been oblivious. Selfish. _Infected_. I didn't even notice my own father's pain. I _was_ worthless.

"You don't have to say anything, Pops. I'm here. What do you need?" I asked.

"You!" he cried into my arm.

We were like that for thirty or so minutes and he'd finally calmed down. "You've gotten skinny." He said, "Eat up." He motioned his fork towards my plate. I sat down and did as told. Neo licked my toes and I snuck him some meatloaf.

I fell asleep on the couch that night watching a rerun of Friends. Neo had fallen asleep down by my feet and I could feel his fur brush my toes even as I slept, but I woke up at around 3AM and sat for a moment trying to regain my balance. I got up to go to my bed and began upstairs. I tucked myself in bed letting Neo sleep next to me and felt myself drifting off, but just as I fell unconscious I was jolted awake by a loud crash. Neo began growling and I dashed down the stairs. "POPS?" I yelled through the house. I checked the doors and windows and none seemed to be broken in or cracked, so I ran to his bedroom and opened his door. He was gone. The window was broken and he was…gone. "Pops!" I yelled. "Pops!" I ran to the window feeling my heart tear. Where did he go? Was he kidnapped? No, he was Captain America, he wouldn't go that easily. I hadn't realized I'd started to cry until I go to the kitchen phone and dialed his cell. It went straight to the voicemail. "Okay! I get it! This is how you felt when I left that night! You can come back now!" I sobbed running into his room again. I stood there for minutes waiting, listening, smelling, and nothing. I heard Neo join me and I went over to the window accidentally placing my hands on broken glass. I paid no attention to this. "DON'T LEAVE ME!" I cried into the night.

I ran to the front door, threw it open like I had done so many nights ago, and ran down the street screaming for him.

The sun was rising when I returned home. Neo was sitting at the front door waiting for me and I called for Pops again. No answer. I wiped my eyes and went into his bedroom and lay on his bed. I curled up with his pillow and eventually fell asleep.

I woke up hours later with Pops next to me. I wanted to yell at him, but I had noticed how beaten up he was. His face was scratched and bruised and his shirt was torn and spotted with blood. I reached over to wake him up and noticed gauze around my wounded hands. Neo looked up at me and I wondered if he'd been fed. I shook Pops awake and he looked at me.

"Sorry…about last night." He said and I remember that glazed, dead look in his eye.

"Where did you go?" I asked refraining myself from crying and screaming at him.

"I had a little too much to drink and went out." He said. That's all he would say that day and I let him stay in bed. I didn't go to school and I made him breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We sat in silence in his room and I finally got one of those jumbo, body-sized garbage bags Dad had kept in the storage shed out in the backyard. I ripped it apart and nailed it to the window until Pops would call someone to fix it.

Wade called later that day to fill me in on a fight that broke out at lunch that he caught on his cell phone. I replied with my usual tone and he asked if he could come over that night.

It was Friday.

"Sure. Pops says it's fine," and Wade was over within ten minutes of our call. He brought his new Xbox games and a bag of cookies his mom had made.

"Hey, Mister Rogers, my mom made these." Wade said handing him the bag.

"That's very kind, tell her my thanks," Pops said with a bright smile. As he turned back to the living room he dug one out and began munching.

"Hey, Wade, do you remember when I talked about fighting crime?" I asked as we played an online shooter game.

"Mmhm." He was fixated in the battle.

"I think I'm actually going to start doing it. I mean, I don't know exactly how I'm going to do it, but I think if I-"

Wade paused the game and looked at me, "And what? Worry your Pops even more? I stared incredulous at him without words to say. "I'm asking you to promise me you won't fight crime."

It took a few minutes but I promised.

Promises were made to be broken, right?


	11. Chapter 11

Time seemed irrelevant now. Days, months, and soon an entire year had gone by. I was seventeen now, Wade was eighteen, and we were in our senior year in high school. I'd still done nothing to fight crime, I had finally managed to pass my classes thanks to Uncle Bruce, and I still had Neo.

He was getting pretty old now, turning eight in a month, and he was showing signs of arthritis in his hips. He couldn't make it up to my bedroom anymore so I found myself sleeping in the living room more often.

Pops was doing a lot of volunteer work around the city with becoming a firefighter and sometimes the librarian's assistant. Whatever made him happy made me happy. He was often gone at night so I'd come home to just my best friend. We'd eat on the couch watching mystery shows and we'd share a bowl of ice cream. I tried waiting for Pops to come home, but when it hit 2AM I would sleep. I always woke up with a blanket on me, though.

Wade had been accepted into the science academy in downtown. He was incredibly intelligent in math and science and offered to help me on multiple occasions with my homework, but I always refused. He was my best friend, not my tutor, and I wanted to keep it that way.

Before I knew it we were talking about graduation procedures and I had to order my cap and gown.

Wade and I went during our lunch period to order them. There was a desk just outside of the cafeteria where you'd write down your size and give them the money.

"So dumb. Why does everyone have to look like weird, green blobs?" Wade asked scribbling his name and address down on the paper.

"Not sure." I mused thinking about prom. We didn't have any friends as girls, so I mentally decided not to go.

"Hey, about prom," Wade said finishing and waiting for me to do the same. He had read my mind.

"What about it?" I began filling in my address info.

"I'm not sure if you've thought about it, but we have no girlfriends. I mean, friends as girls to ask. Wanna be my date?" he asked. I hadn't thought of that.

"Sure, why not?" I said and the lady behind the desk cleared her throat. I looked up at her and scowled. I wanted to tell her my parents were both Dads, but then I found my gaze hesitating over the paperwork.

"Awesome! Should I wear a dress or should you? You did look good in that wedding dress when we went to the mall last weekend," he laughed.

"I only tried that on because you paid me twenty bucks, I didn't actually like it." I laughed with him. I handed the lady my check for the cap and gown and soon we were off to hang outside our next class. "Neither of us are wearing a dress."

"Alright, alright," Wade said sitting down and leaning against some lockers. I joined him pulling out my cell. I checked it almost ten times a day waiting for Dad to text me, but it never came. Nor did he call. Or send letters. Or even confirm that he was alive. Sometimes I wondered if Pops said he was volunteering but he was really looking for Dad.

"Hey, Pops is making spaghetti tonight, wanna eat over?" I asked putting my phone away.

"Yeah, sure! I'll text Mom to let her know." He said now pulling out his phone. We talked about more random things and before we knew it school was over. I had my own car, a 2009 Ford Focus, and we drove to my house to meet Pops for dinner.

Soon it was 8 o'clock and Wade was still over. Pops had to go volunteer at the fire station and we were watching the newest Mission Impossible.

"I can't believe he's still doing these movies," Wade commented munching on some popcorn with me.

"I know, isn't he like…eighty or something?" I asked and he shrugged.

"Looks like it. See him struggling? He has to be pushing like seventy or something. And then – oh there he goes. Stunt double added in." His phone rang and he looked at it, "Do you know this number?" he asked showing me the screen of his phone.

"Nope." I said. He hung up on the caller and we continued the movie. About ten minutes later the caller rung his phone again. "Maybe you should answer it," I commented looking at him.

"Yeah, alright. Hello?" his face went pale. "Yes. Alright. I'll be there as soon as I can." And he hung up. He didn't explain to me and just got up and grabbed his cardigan. "Can you drive me to the hospital in downtown?"

"Of course." I said. I didn't ask questions because I knew. Well, I didn't _know_ because it was a hunch, but I grabbed my keys and we were off. It started out quiet, but when I saw Wade bring his knees up to his chin and he began shaking I knew something terribly bad had happened and I needed to distract him. I started talking about prom, how we're going to look like such idiots dancing to slow music, about graduation, and college.

Naturally there was traffic and we didn't arrive at the hospital for thirty minutes. I parked and we ran inside. "I'm looking for Elizabeth Wilson?" he asked the receptionist. "We're his sons," he lied.

"She's in surgery right now, but she's on the fifth floor in room six. Here, you'll need these to get into the ICU floor," she handed us two badges and we ran to the elevators.

We flashed our badges like cops on CSI and went to her room. A doctor came over asking if we wanted water or a snack, but we both declined. Wade was impatient and I could tell he was about to break.

"What's her status?" he asked not really wanting to know the honest answer.

The doctor pulled out her clipboard and read over it quickly, "She was hit by a car going fifty. Major blunt trauma to her skull, broken arm, fractured hip, and a broken leg." He said nonchalantly.

"How long will the surgery take?" he asked.

"Not sure. Maybe two hours? Three? Not sure. All depends on how bad she's actually hurt,"

Wade nodded and the doctor left the room.

We sat for two hours.

Three.

And then a forth.

Wade's mother was wheeled into the room and was connected to, what seemed like, a million different machines. They had to put a tube down her throat to regulate her breathing and propped up her broken limbs. The entire left half of her head was shaved and covered in slightly blood gauze.

Pops called about two hours later and I left the room to talk to him. "Where are you?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm at the hospital with Wade. His Mom got hit by a car," I explained shortly.

He was quiet, "I'm so sorry. Tell him I send my regards."

"I will."

"Are you going to come home tonight?"

"I think I'm going to stay here with Wade. I don't want him to panic during the night if…anything happens."

"Alrighty, keep me informed. I'll have my phone on."

"I will." And we hung up and I went back in. Wade had moved his chair over to sit by his mother's side holding her uninjured hand. He wasn't crying, but I could see it in his eyes that he wanted to.

The night wore on and I looked at the clock. "5AM" it read in bright red, neon lights.

We sat for a few more minutes and then one of the machines began beeping crazily. Then another machine went off, and before I knew it we were rushed out of the room and Wade held my hand as the other was at his mouth where he bit at his fingernails.

"What's going on?" he asked a doctor but he ignored him.

Minutes that seemed like hours passed.

A doctor came out and walked to us. "You're Misses Wilson's children?" he asked. We nodded. "It seems…she didn't make it. The trauma to her head was too severe and her brain couldn't handle it. I'm sorry for your loss."

Wade stood there for a long minute. He didn't breath. Blink. Talk. Move. "Wade…?" I asked feeling his grip loosen on my hand. I gripped it not wanting him to let go. "Wade." I whispered cautiously. He took my hand back in his and led me out the door. We didn't say anything to the desk receptionist; we didn't speak to anymore personnel. We got in my car and I began to drive. "Where do you want to go?" I whispered.

"Home."

That's all he would say to me for the next two weeks. We went to the funeral after the first two days and we parted. He didn't text or call me, and when I tried to contact him he ignored my messages. I even went over to his house after the first week but he didn't answer. I could see him sitting on his couch and look at the door, but I left him alone.

After the third week of nothing he finally called me. "Hey, Peter," he said.

"Hi," I answered. "How…how're you doing?"

He got straight to the point, "Can I live with you and Pops? I'm being evicted…"

I didn't have to ask for permission, "Of course."

"Okay, um…" he trailed off, "Sorry about recently."

"Don't start apologizing. I'll be over to help you move your stuff in ten," I said.

"Oh, okay. See you then." He hung up.

I went downstairs and knocked on Pops's door. "Hey, Pops?"

"What is it?" he must have been changing or something.

"Is it okay…if Wade comes to live with us?"

He opened the door and he was buttoning his pants. "Yeah, of course." He said. "He can stay in your room until I've got the study cleared out?"

"Sounds good. I'm going to help him move," I said and left.

When I arrived to Wade's house he had a few boxes already outside next to his car. It was a 2006 Suzuki Reno and had it stuffed with clothes and more boxes.

"What're you doing with the furniture?" I asked.

"I put some of it in storage," he said putting a box down, "for my apartment when I go to college. But the rest I sold for tuition money,"

"Oh," I said.

"I have a few more boxes. Will you help?"

"Definitely."

His house was eerily empty. There was nothing left except for three boxes by the door. We hauled them out and we drove back to my house. I told him the room situation and he said it was fine. Pops helped bring all of his stuff in and he had lunch waiting for us.

After lunch he picked through his boxes to find things he'd need like toiletries, clothing, school stuff, and his stuffed animal, Roy. Neo managed up the stairs to us and sat between our silence. Wade held Roy close and petted Neo. We didn't say anything more that night, but when we went to bed I could feel him wanting to say something. That air held in one's throat and the anticipation of actually saying it, but he never did. I rolled over to him and hugged him knowing that was the best thing I could do at the moment. Just like the night he'd was over and Dad had left, we cried together.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: There is a scene in here that I'd rate PG-13. Just giving y'all the head's up!

He was different after his Mom died. I grew worried and then realized this was how he felt towards me. I didn't want to leave him alone. He said things like "I'm nothing without her" or "I'm a worthless piece of shit". It was basically everything I thought about myself…without actually saying it. I sat him down a few times to tell him all of those things were lies, but he never listened. Hell, I wouldn't have listened if the roles were reversed and he was scolding me about Dad leaving.

Then, one night, Wade and I were home alone because Pops was volunteering. We were watching a Disney movie and Neo was begging for food. I was laughing at him and making him do tricks as I threw pieces of popcorn in the air for him to catch.

"I take back what I made you promise." He whispered.

I looked over, "What are you talking about?" I asked. I could hear his blood pulse quickening, his body starting to shake. He was getting anxious.

"About fighting crime."

My smile to Neo faded quickly. "What're you thinking?"

"Do what your Pops does. Fight crime. Just…secretly."

"If I ask, you can't punch me." He looked at me with seriousness and I took the go-ahead, "Why the sudden change to fight?"

"People are out there drunk driving everyday and could hit someone else's Mom and ruin their life, too. I want to stop it."

"That's not fighting crime, Wade, that's picking out certain types of people to put in jail."

"Who said jail? I want to end them like they ended my Mom." His voice was harsh and he spat when he said this; I could see revenge in his eyes.

"Wade, no! That's murder and you could…no!" I got close to him pleading with my eyes. "Please calm down and rethink this. Fighting crime is one thing, murdering is an entirely different thing!"

"Your father was shot, do you remember? You told me someone broke into your neighbor's house, they went after him, and your Dad got hurt. What if he'd killed him? What if he was shot in the chest instead of the leg?"

"But he didn't, so I can't…I can't picture it!" I yelled. I had also tried blocking Dad out of my memory anyways.

"My Mom was taken away from me forever, Peter! By some drunk asshole who decided to drive in fucking Manhattan!" he was yelling now. "How would you feel if your only living relative DIED!" he was pinning me on the couch with anger. He was going to hit me. I could feel it. He wanted to hit me. I covered my face with my hands protectively. He stayed there and I wanted to say something, but I felt his face against my hands. His nose poking between my fingers and his lips and eyelashes brushing my skin. "Peter…I'm alone…" he breathed against my hands.

"You have me." I simply said. "And Pops. And Neo." My voice sounded muffled against my palms. We were quiet for a while, him sitting on top of me face pressed against my hands. My heart began to race and I suddenly became nervous.

"You're right…" he said. He moved his face off of my hands and I removed them from my face. He was looking straight into my eyes. I could feel his breath on my face and my heart sped even faster.

"…Wade…" I mumbled out flustered. One of his hands went into my hair and my stomach instantly had butterflies and started doing back flips. "What're you…" I couldn't bring myself to talk. Or do anything. I just lay there watching his face. His eyes. His nose. His mouth.

"Is it okay if I try something?" he asked very quietly. I could feel his fingers brush my scalp and I got goosebumps.

"W-what do you wanna try?" I stuttered but I already knew the answer.

"Just…trust me, okay?" he was breathing hard now.

"…Okay…" I breathed out. He was hesitant but he gently brushed his lips against mine and my stomach flew to my throat. He deepened it just a hair and I found myself pulling my hands up around his neck behind his ears. His hair was soft and it felt nice against my sensitive skin. Things had escalated very oddly this evening, that's for sure. One minute talking about murder the next we were kissing. And…I was enjoying it.

He moved his legs closer to my hips as he deepened it further. He rested himself against my waist so he could move both hands down my sides. I shivered with light pleasure and then he separated the kiss both of us breathing hard.

"Well…that was unexpected," I exhaled.

Wade's face was serious, "I do have you. And Pops. And Neo." He stated. "I still…want to look into fighting crime."

"We'll fight crime, but…we're not murdering anyone. No matter how much they deserve it. The law will see it unjust,"

Wade nodded still sitting on me. He hadn't put his full weight on, which I was thankful for – I was a skinny kid – and we just looked at each other and I could see pink in his cheeks. "Wanna try that again?" he asked. I nodded sheepishly into the couch and he bent down to meet my lips, but the front door unlocked and Pops arrived home. Wade and I separated faster that the speed of light. I tried acting calm eating the popcorn while Wade pretended to be interested in the movie.

"You boys are still up?" he asked. "Never in my youth was I up until 3AM."

"Times change, Pops," I said still a little heavy on the breathing.

"You alright?" he asked noticing. Neo went over to him and ran around his legs. "I know, Neo, hi hi hi!"

"Yeah, just got done with an intense scene in the movie." Wade covered for me.

"Alright. You boys hungry? I'll make something quick since you're up," he offered.

"Sure," we echoed.

The next day we got down to business. We would need supplies: masks, police radio, and good cover names.

We sat on my floor sketching mask ideas and talking about how we were going to acquire a police radio. "Don't they sell them somewhere?" Wade asked.

"No idea. I think they only sell them in the black market areas," I said not really even knowing what I was saying.

"We'll have to find one then. Where do we even get to the black market?" he asked picking up the red marker I was going for. He stuck his tongue out at me and I grabbed black instead.

"Maybe someone at school will know." I offered thoughtfully, "We do have gangs in town, but Pops would lose his shit if we were murdered in that part of town,"

"Because he wouldn't lose his shit if he found you scaling buildings kicking bad guy ass?" he looked up at me with his quirky smirk.

I smiled and then looked back down at my half design, "But that…that he doesn't have to know about. He'd find out if we were murdered."

"You forget you're half spider," Wade noted and I nodded.

"I know," I said flatly. "But I've never practiced with it before. I mean, I haven't used the web since the day what's-his-face threw you off the second floor in the mall. My wrists have scabbed over,"

"Time to unscab them, then" he said. "Wha'do you think?" he asked showing me his design. "I call him Deadpool."

"Name's cool, but the mask is weird."

He looked back down, "What's weird about it? It's cool!"

"Your mask, not mine," I clarified chuckling.

"What's your mask looking like?" he asked peeking over at my paper. I showed him what I had and he scoffed. "You think mine's weird? What're all those lines?"

"They're spider's web!" I defended. "He's Spider-Man."

"I like the name, but maybe we both should rework our masks," he contemplated.

"Probably. But I like the web design thing I've got goin'," I said getting us new paper.


	13. Chapter 13

We had masks, a police radio (that we stole), Wade had a couple of guns he was able to get for cheap, and our fake names. We started out small with car thieves and convenience store robbers.

A month later we amped it up to bank robberies.

Next thing I knew we were hunting down cereal killers, murders, and rapists. Without giving our fake or real names, we were the talk of the town. Wade's newspaper name was "The Black Mask" and mine was "The Red Mask". So original. (That was sarcasm.)

It was funny, really, that the major criminals never usually put up a fight until the very last second. We had been shot at hundreds of times by robbers and thieves, but murders? Usually out doing casual stuff when we find them.

There was one time in particular that I'll never forget. Wade and I had been hunting this cereal killer down for weeks. He was at home in his small apartment on the 42nd floor. Wade wrapped his arms around my neck and I shot my web up to take us to this apartment. We broke into the living room, smashing his window, and caught him watching a movie in his bedroom.

"You can't run!" Wade yelled holding his guns up only feet from the portly man.

He took one minute to look at us, rolled off the bed, I tried catching him with my web, and he shuffled into the bathroom that was connected to the kitchen. "Stay here, I'll get him on the other end," I stated running to the other door.

We waited for a few minutes listening to him fumble around with things in there, until he finally emerged on my side wielding two katanas. He came at me screaming. I didn't think he would be that talented with them, but he sliced my skin several times before Wade could even make an attempt to come over to assist me.

I shot web in his face to catch my breath, but he could fight blind. He took his sword and stabbed me in the leg. I screamed in pain and Wade kicked the guy in the stomach. He pulled the sword out of my leg, took the weapon, and began fighting.

Wade was good with swords. No, good was an understatement. He was like a martial art's king. I don't know where it came from, but he knew how to dodge, strike, you name it he was doing it.

I managed to get up; I grabbed a kitchen cloth and tied it around my wound. I couldn't do anything. I was in so much pain that I knew Pops would find out and panic began to settle in.

In the moments that I was panicking Wade was calling my name. I turned to him and began over to try my best to help, and just as I made my way over the killer had tripped Wade and pulled his sword above his head and lashed down. I caught the blade in my hands just in time. I could feel the blade slice into the depths of my palms, blood began to drip onto Wade's face.

"Peter!" Wade yelled and I held a firm grip on the katana as the killer tried to free it from my grasp. I yelled in pain as it sliced further.

"GET HIM!" I screamed. Wade got up, pulled a syringe out of his backpack, and managed to get it into the guy's ankle. He injected the serum and moments later he went limp and fell into the bathtub. I dropped the sword and looked at the mess of my hands. The slices were an inch deep. Blood spewed down my hands and onto the floor and I looked around frantically for something to wrap them in. Wade grabbed a couple of towels and wrapped them carefully.

"This is bad, Peter. This is _so_ bad." He said.

"Just…just call the cops and we'll leave." I said feeling lightheaded.

"We need to go to a hospital." He said grabbing the swords. "I'll keep these." He whispered shoving the sharp edges into his backpack with the hilts sticking out.

"I'm-I'm fine, let's just call them and jet," I said limping my way to the window.

"You are in no damn condition to swing us down or to go home. You're bleeding through those towels and you're limping! We have to get you some medical help!" he was at my side trying to hold me up.

"Shit. Pops is going to be pissed," I mumbled. Wade called the police and then an ambulance. "No, no, no!" I bated at the phone but was too weak and in too much pain to be successful. "Wade! Please! Pops can't know!" I was desperately begging.

"God dammit! You're losing too much blood. Shit!"

But he stalled long enough for the EMS and police to arrive. "Good work, boys," the cop said going into the bathroom with a few of his men. A nurse came over and picked me up. I blacked out on my way down the elevator.

I had a dream that Dad was there. He was talking to me. Telling me things I'd wanted him to say: his apology, that I wasn't his biggest mistake, that he still loved me. But I opened my eyes only to see Wade.

"Hey!" he exclaimed happily. I looked around the room confused and I was looking for Dad.

"Dad?" I mumbled still half in my dream, but reality hit too soon and I let my head rest realizing he wasn't there. "Where's Pops?"

"On his way."

"What did they tell him?"

"We were shopping and we got mugged and you tried to be the hero."

I nodded liking that excuse. "The swords?"

"I hid them." He didn't give me anymore than that. "How're you feeling?"

"I hurt."

I started thinking about Dad more. The last time I was in the hospital he was there with me. The day Derek had beaten me up, he and Pops had taken me to the hospital, and even though Pops had advised Dad not come he still did and held my hand while they casted my nose.

I wondered where he was. Did he miss Pops? Did he miss Neo? Did he miss…me? What about the house or his workshop, did he miss those? Did he even miss anything at all? But I was _infected_. He left because of me. He hated me. He despised me. He didn't want me in his life.

Pops showed up about ten minutes later and began scolding me about staying out of the line of fire despite my heroic tendencies.

I was discharged an hour later after they had given me a cleaning routine for my wounds. I was prescribed crutches, but with my hands being so badly cut I couldn't use them. I was given a wheelchair to use until my leg healed or I could walk on it again, but I was told to keep any sort of pressure off of it for at least a week.

Pops and Wade helped me into the house and set me up a camp down in the living room with Neo, who was more than happy to share his domain with. I laid down and reached over, not trying to stretch my staples too much, to move my hand gently across Neo's head.

"Want me to stay down here with you?" Wade asked and I shook my head.

"I'll be alright." I smiled and he went upstairs. Pops covered me with a blanket, set a glass of water next to me, and soon I fell asleep.

I dreamed of Dad again. He was smiling at me as I blew out my birthday candles, he smiled at me finally passing math, and handed me his soda can to do our ritual.

I wanted to tell him so many things, I wanted to yell at him and scold him and then tell him I was sorry and that I wanted him home.

Pops woke me up the next morning and I felt better. My hands stung and my leg ached, but I was alright. I took my vicadin, Wade went to school, and Pops made me breakfast. I never brought Dad up around Pops because I knew it hurt him too much.

"Pops," I began as he began feeding me toast. My hands hurt to grab anything.

"What is it?" he asked letting me chew first.

"Why did you and Dad get a divorce?" He froze and almost dropped the plate, but he caught himself and slouched. "Sorry, I didn't mean…Nevermind."

"No, you have a right to know." He whispered obviously hurt by the memories. I was quiet waiting for him to finally speak, "One night he came home having a bad day at work. I asked him what was wrong and then he just said 'I want a divorce.' There was no precursor to this, it was just…a random night. I tried convincing him it was just his bad day taking over and that he didn't mean it, but he already had his paperwork filled out ready for me to sign." He took a deep breath. "I thought everything was great between us. I thought we were still madly in love, I mean I still am, but…I just…" he trailed off. "I was shocked." He nodded at the validation in his head, "We fought for years and years and then one day he finally said 'I had an affair'. He obviously didn't want me in his life any longer so I signed. He gave all the rights to me only asking to take his clothes and a bit of money. I mean, he left over eight billion dollars to us, Peter, so he…he must have cared for us, right?" he looked up at me asking this. I had tears in my eyes. _Years and years_. Dad had put Pops through this almost my entire life and now I was getting angry. I was no longer wondering if he missed me, I was wondering where he was so I could punch him in the face.

"Do you know where he is?" I asked cautiously.

He shook his head, "No. I tried tracking his credit cards, his passport, I even had Clint and Natasha try to hunt him down, but his traces lead to a wall. He left nothing behind."

"Except us." I said feeling my anger build more and more. He looked at me and nodded.

"I'm just happy he didn't take you. I don't know what I would have done if I was alone." He put a fatherly hand on my good leg and patted it. "I'll get you some more water,"

He took about twenty minutes for him to get back with his water and I knew he had to calm down from explaining.

I knew what I had to do. With or without Wade.


	14. Chapter 14

It was a week before prom and Wade and I were out tux shopping. "I want a red tux, do they sell those?" he asked sifting through our local bridal shop for a good outfit.

"No idea." I stated being cautious with my hands. My leg was completely healed, but along the line of recovery I had tripped and got my palms infected, this was causing major, gruesome scars and the skin was still extremely sensitive. I mean, these scars were nasty. They were bulging, bright pink, soft things that took over the majority of my palms. I'll never regret getting those scars because they saved my friends life, but the consequence of falling in my backyard trying to play with Neo was a highly, unthought out plan that ended terribly. I pulled out a tux with tweed and checked for my size.

"I found one!" Wade exclaimed excitedly from the other side of the store. "Kind of ugly…but it'll do." We met at the fitting rooms telling eachother to show our outfits and we came out moments later.

"Well…that's interesting." I said gawking at his atrocity of a suit.

"Yeah. It's the only red one they have, though."

"Why does it have to be red?"

"Because I'm Dead- I mean. Cause it's awesome."

"Right. It looks terrible. You need to find something else that doesn't make you look…ridiculously stupid."

"Well they had a baby blue suit I could try on for you, Your Highness,"

"No, no. I'll take the red over baby blue, anyday."

"Just as I thought. That suit looks good on you though. Could use some hemming on your waist, but looks classy."

"God we sound like girls." I moaned letting my head roll back as Wade laughed going back into his fitting room. I looked at the price of the suit to rent and found it in my budget. I had one of the tailors to hem the suit for me while Wade gathered my stuff by him on the bench.

"You should wear a wedding dress instead. That'd really make a statement," Wade said looking at the different women's dresses.

"I'm good. Thanks, though,"

"No, I'm serious. You'd probably be able to pull one off. Your frame is so damn tiny,"

"Just shut up. I'm not wearing a freaking wedding dress to prom. We get bullied as it is, do you honestly want more shit on us as it is?"

"You know if we told them we were…you know, then we'd be the most popular kids in school?"

"Except that's a terrible idea because then…um…we're ending this discussion." I said bluntly as the man took my waist measurements.

"So should I get the red tux or not? I still can't decide."

"I'm begging you. Please don't. It looked terrible. The fit was all wrong." I tried looking over my shoulder at him but the tailor kept me in place.

Prom soon came and I was deemed the female in the relationship. "I don't get how I'm the girl." I complained my palms still sensitive.

"Because you're thin like a girl, you style your hair like a girl, you wash your face like a girl, and you do everything like a girl. So you have the vagina in this friendship."

I whirled around, "Just shut the hell up and get ready. You haven't even put that damn red balloon on yet."

Wade smirked and went into the bathroom to change as I fixed my hair. Pops was out doing some more volunteer work leaving the two of us to the house alone. I had carried Neo upstairs while we got ready so he could be on the festivities and I even took a picture with him and set it as my phone's wallpaper. I smiled happily just as Wade entered the room.

Needless to say I was speechless. He had it fitted, tailored and added black to the trimming. He was fixing his tie making sure it was perfectly centered and then use his hand to slick back his hair. I dropped my phone.

"You alright?" he asked with that devilish smirk on his face. _He knew_.

"Yeah." I said turning away to hide my blush.

"Well tell me how it looks," he said opening his arms out to show it off. I was honestly speechless. I know we had kissed and I liked it, but this…this was the moment I realized I had a real attraction to him.

"Perfect." I said in such a tone that I could see Wade's face go a little pink. We both smiled and I got up wiping the dog fur from my suit. "Let's go," I said looking for my car keys.

"Wait, I got you something!" he exclaimed running down the stairs. I met him in the kitchen and he pulled out a corsage from the fridge. "Ta-da! For my stunning partner!" he handed me the plastic container with a red rose in it and I stared. "It matches my outfit so everyone will know you're my date for tonight," he said with a triumphant smile.

"This officially makes me a chick, you know that?" I looked up at him trying to give him a hard time.

"Yeah, that's why I got it for you." He barked a laugh and he helped me put it on. "Yes! Beautiful!"

"You seem way too excited about this,"

"Cause I am." He said taking my arm as we made our way to my car.

We got there and it was packed. I had to park in the very back of the parking lot and then it took us about ten minutes to actually walk up to the museum. Our prom was held in our local historic museum on the first floor. They had emptied the lobby and created a dance floor, a eating area, a cocktail lounge that only served virgin drinks, and then upstairs was the photo booth thingy that we didn't go check out.

"Man, they turned this place around. Looks awesome," Wade commented as we entered. We didn't have other friends to mingle with or chat to, so we tore up the dance floor with our awesome moves. (Sarcasm again. We looked like idiots, but it was fun, alright?)

When they played the slow songs we would go get a soda and tried to decide what jock was going to dump his girlfriend tonight and who was going to end up pregnant. Then the old 90's music of Backstreet Boys came on and we did our thing. We went, tore it up, they played more Spice Girls, we kept dancing, and soon midnight was nearing. The prom officially ended at midnight because the museum had to open the next morning for business, but there were parties at other homes that Wade and I weren't invited to, but we had convinced my creepy neighbor to buy us vodka and we hid it under my bed.

They had announced the last slow song of the evening and we went to our table and got new sodas. We laughed some more and had the time of our lives. It was the first time we had really honestly gone out and had fun since either of our tragedies. We didn't take notice to my daddy problems, and he didn't take notice to his mother's death. It was nice, that night, that we were by eachother's sides laughing at silly things like teenagers should.

"Mister Parker, can I have this dance?" Wade asked in a very deep, weird voice holding out one of his hands.

"Why the hell not," I said taking it. We were actually trying to dance for the first half of the song, but then we started saying gushy things to eachother, he dipped me a couple of times, and we tried to bump into as many people as possible all the while trying not to laugh like loons.

They played one more up-beat song, we spun around the floor trying to break-dance – not seriously, of course- and were kicked out at midnight with everyone else. We grabbed a couple of sodas to go and he and I piled in my car ready to return home. Pops wouldn't be back until dawn, so we had the entire night to ourselves.

We got to our house, laughed about people he entire way in and went up to my room. Neo was still up there and I carried him down to go potty. I carried him back up and Wade already had the drinks set up. He handed me my shot glass and rose a toast, "To my best friend, Peter!" he said and we took our shot. I rose a toast, "To my deadbeat best friend who claims I have a vagina, Wade!" and we took our shot.

It was close to 4AM and Wade had passed out on my floor completely sprawled out still in his tux. I stared at him from my bed thinking about our fun night.

And at that moment I realized I was in love with my best friend.


	15. Chapter 15

I had this scenario in my head through countless dreams that one day I'd find Dad and convince him to come home, be a family again, pretend he never left Pops, pretend he didn't hate me, and pretend everything was just one big fucking lie.

I knew that Wade's mother's death and Dad leaving were completely two different things, but I couldn't help but feel guilty. Yeah, Dad's out there somewhere doing his thing while Pops and I suffer from his loss. I try to hide my emotions with Wade and eventually end up crying in the shower so no one can see or hear, but Wade knows. We don't talk about eachother's losses much, but when we do we end up having an argument about random things that don't involve our parents and don't talk for a day or so.

Pops finally admitted himself into therapy and did the same for me and Wade. Individual sessions, that is. We'd never go at the same time because, well, our feelings were different towards our situations. Pops offered for him and me to be in a little family session, but I decided against it because I didn't want him knowing how I truly felt.

We went to therapy, at this point, once a week for the past two months. I was getting no where with my therapist, and Pops said he was but I could see it wasn't making a difference. Wade didn't say anything.

On top of that, graduation was in a week. I was buckling down on my studies with Wade in my room most nights preparing for our final exams. We had our graduation a month before school got out mostly just in case you _didn't_ pass the exams and had to retake them and regraduate. I don't know, it was a confusing process I decided to stay away from.

And then Wade started distancing himself away from me completely. We lived in the same house, had two of the same classes, and rode home together, but all during that time he never texted me, talked to me, confronted me, or anything. I knew his ways and I had to be patient like I had when his mother passed. Sure, I had bugged the living hell out of him, but he eventually came around and moved in, as I'm sure you remember me telling you.

And then he said he was going to go to a university out of New York.

"Oh, yeah? Which place?" I asked trying to sound happy as my heart broke just a little.

"There's a place in Texas called UT that I'm really looking into. I submitted an application about a month ago, so I should be receiving my letter anytime soon." He said blatantly. "They have a good Business degree,"

"That's cool! I hope you get in!" I lied.

Then it was time for dinner. Pops came home from SHIELD with Uncle Clint and Aunty Tasha behind him. "They wanted to see how you were doing, Pete," Pops said and they waved hello.

"Hey!" I exclaimed happily jumping up to hug them both.

"How've you been?" Clint asked. I knew the tone behind his voice, but I ignored it and played dumb, "Fine, fine," I said nodding. "You two look great," I said admiring them.

"It's been a while, we know," Aunty Tasha said with a small frown.

"You guys have met Wade before," I said reintroducing my best friend. The three had only met once before, and that was on a office visit to SHEILD to visit Pops. It was only a brief second they chatted, but they met nonetheless.

"Of course, always a pleasure," Natasha went over and hugged him.

"Same to you."

Clint went over and shook hands with him and we all sat down for dinner. "Oh, here Wade, this came in the mail today." He said winking as he handed the large envelope to my friend.

He took it carefully and observed the seal: _University of Texas_. I could see him become nervous as he ripped it open and pulled out its contents. I could see his eyes scanning the letter and then his lips turned into the wildest grin. "I GOT ACCEPTED!" he screamed jumping up knocking his chair back scaring Neo.

All of us cheered for him, went out for ice cream, and then came home. It was a short-lived party. I don't remember much of the party because, well, this happened:

We got home, I was the first in the door, and called for Neo to go outside to potty. He didn't come.

"Look upstairs," Pops said with the rest of the group following him into the kitchen for evening decaf coffee.

Wade followed me and we searched upstairs. And then downstairs. And finally the backyard.

"Neo!" I called for him looking around the backyard in all his favorite spots. Wade called for him too and split off in the other direction of the backyard and around the house near the water picket. "Dog, where are you?" I mumbled to myself looking around the shed. And then I heard it.

There was a voice in the shed and I could hear Neo's tail whapping against something. I quickly picked off the scabs from my webbing and got ready to fire. I kicked the shed door open and Neo looked back at me.

And then I looked up at the man sitting on the work bench with all the machines buzzing and running.

My knees felt weak and I dropped my hands, "Dad…"

He looked at me with his dark eyes, but something was different about him. His facial hair was gone, his hair was greasy and slicked back, and he looked beaten to hell.

Then all of my rage and emotion became bottled and I went at him. I began throwing punches, I kicked him out of his chair, I screamed at him, and Neo barked at me.

"Peter, stop!" he yelled.

"YOU LEFT US!" I screamed punching him in the face. "YOU BASTARD!" he grabbed my hands and pushed me down. I had tears in my eyes from frustration and anger.

"I didn't have a choice!" he defended himself. I spat in his face and he let go of my hands to wipe my saliva off. I shoved him in the chest angrily. "Peter!" he yelled at me.

I couldn't see straight. My anger was taking over and I balled my fists up again. I took at step closer and watched him put up his hands in caution, "_You. Left. Us._"

"Calm down."

"Calm down? CALM DOWN? Not a word, not a single letter, NOT ONE FUCKING THING!" I shot web at his hands and they flew back at his chest stuck.

"Peter?" Wade's voice trailed over to the shed and I shot web a the door to lock them. I wasn't done with my Dad just yet.

"Do you know how hard you hurt Pops? Do you know what you did to him? DO YOU?"

Dad was shaking. "No." he whispered.

"WEEKS OF THERAPY! OVER YOU!" I pushed him into the wall and he closed his eyes.

"I had _no choice_." He whispered finally looking at me.

I hit him.

"You have ten minutes to leave." I found myself saying. "If you're not gone by the time-"

"Peter. I'm here because I need your help." He said licking his bloody lip.

"What the _fuck¸_ Dad. You hit me, leave, not show up for almost two years, and expect _my_ help?" I asked incredulous. "Do…do you even know the trauma I went through? Are _still_ going through because of that night?" And here it came. "I went through hell in school because you two were married. I didn't understand it until I was about thirteen, and I stood up for you both. I got beaten up, spat on, locked in the bathroom, often times my desk was missing in a class, the fucking lunch ladies refused to give me food occasionally, and do you know why I stood up for all of that fucking bullshit? Because you two were my parents, and I loved you both. Hell, I still love you both. And then, not even having a clue, you tell me you're getting a divorce. You argued a lot, but I took it as it would get better. Families through thick and thin, wasn't that one of the lines you used to tell me? Then you _hit_ me because I had panicked and ran off, and then disappeared for almost two years. I blamed myself for everything, for everything you ever did because I knew Pops never did anything to deserve that." I was crying now and I was trying to hold on to my last nerves hoping to be able to talk to him civilly, but I looked at the ground and walked to the other side of the shed. "I don't want to help you." I cried. "Because you weren't there when I needed you."

I could feel his eyes on my face like I used to, I could feel him stand without a noise, I heard him break the web and put a soft hand on my shoulder.

"There are no words that can describe how sorry I am. But I had to leave. That was the only way I could leave without…"

"Without what, Dad?"

"Having you both killed."

"You leaving was just as good as."

"Watch that tongue, Mister."

"Shove it up your ass." I shoved him off. "Ten minutes. If you're still here, I'm calling the cops." I didn't know what I was saying. I had wanted him home so badly, I wanted to search for him, and now here I was telling him to leave again.

I went over to the door ready to leave when he said, "Pops has been targeted." I stood quietly waiting for him to explain, but he didn't. I turned to look at him. "And so have you."


	16. Chapter 16

It had to be a bad dream. It had to be. Wade was slamming on the shed door yelling for me, and I finally let him in. He stared at Dad for a moment then turned to me and back to Dad.

"Wade, you remember Dad. Dad, you remember Wade." I said quietly sitting down on the shed floor. It got quiet for a couple minutes until I finally said, "Who's targeting us?"

Dad sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose like he used to, "I can't say."

I nodded sarcastically and clapped my hands together, "Well if you're trying to save us you're doing one hell of a job." I was getting even angrier. "Is it the person you had an affair with?" I asked and he shot a death glare at me. "Did they finally find out you have a kid and an ex-husband?"

"Shut your mouth."

"You're the one who had the affair. You know, it's funny really; I've wanted you to come home since the day you left. To tell you how I really felt, to ask you to say you lied, but now facing you and realizing my true anger, I don't want anything to do with you. Go back to your new lover who has us targeted and leave us alone." I stood as Wade watched in shock at me. "You're down to five minutes."

"Peter Benjamin Parker!"

"You don't deserve us, Dad!" I yelled. "Someone who has the nerve to cheat and lie doesn't deserve someone as good and honest as Pops!"

"I KNOW THAT!" Dad yelled, "I'm trying to keep you both alive, for fuck's sake! I came here with my life on the line to warn you two, and this is my thanks?"

I scoffed and rushed towards him, "You want me to _thank_ you for your heroic act?"

"Peter, just...leave him alone." Wade whispered grabbing my shoulder and I shoved him away.

I could see it in Dad's eyes that he gave up on me and just began to explain, "There's going to be an attack in Times Square at midnight. The Avengers will be assembled and I need you to make sure Steve doesn't get involved. If he does, and I'm sure he'll insist he fight, make sure he stays away from the Hershey store. Do _not_ let him go inside. The other Avengers will be fine, it's Steve he's after. I want you to stay completely out of it. If he sees you at all he's going to strike you down. Convince Pops to go to a movie and make sure he forgets his phone." I didn't know what to say, but before I knew it Dad was headed to the door and grabbed his coat. "I believe my time is up." And he walked out.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, but then I heard Pops calling us from inside. We got up, Wade not saying a word, as we shuffled in. Neo shuffled past us and went inside and I told everyone I was going to bed. Did Dad mean tonight tonight? Or tomorrow tonight? I didn't know, but I pulled out my mask and made sure my scabs hadn't healed over yet. Wade came into my room and closed it. "What're you doing?" he asked.

"I don't know." I said honestly.

"Your Dad just told you to keep your Pops busy so he wouldn't die and you're pulling out the mask? Peter, do you know what you're doing?"

"Whatever is going after me and Pops is not going to stop from one failed mission. I don't know who I'm looking for, but Dad said the Hersey's shop. That means he's there waiting. I have to kill him before he kills us,"

"Unless he realizes what you've done and kills you instead!" Wade barked.

"You're going to take Pops out. Tell him it's a surprise and just drive him out of town or something for the night."

"No."

I looked at him setting my mask on my bed. "No?"

"Suicide mission. I'm not letting you do it."

"Who said I had a plan to die?" I asked confused. "I'm just going after whoever's trying to kill us, not to kill myself."

"I'm not letting you leave."

I was growing angry at him now. "I don't need your permission," I simply stated and he seemed offended by my statement. "Look, I just need some…I don't know. I'm just really confused with Dad showing up and telling me this. How am I supposed to feel okay with leaving the other Avengers to the mission knowing they could get hurt in the hunt for Pops and I? How is Pops going to feel knowing why I took him out of town not knowing that I talked to Dad for the first time in two years," Wade was quiet. "Just…keep him occupied. Please, Wade."

Wade was quiet but nodded slowly in confirmation. "I'll take him to see a movie. Bonding time or some shit," he wasn't happy about it. This was clearly smeared across his face as he failed to look at me in the eyes or even towards my general direction. "If you feel yourself in any life threatening situation, you phone me. Got that?" He was looking at the door.

"Promise." I tried to reassure him but he left calling after Pops. I scrambled to get my spandex on as it neared midnight.

I escaped through my bedroom window and snuck around the bushes past the living room so no one would see me. I could hear them talking close to the front door as Uncle Clint and Anuty Tasha were getting ready to leave. Wade's voice piped in and my stomach felt a little better knowing he was keeping up with his side.

I darted to Times Square as quickly as I could. Once I reached downtown I began web shooting to quicken my pace, and I got there at about 11:30PM. I rushed to the Hershey's store, finding it well closed, and shot myself to the roof.

I looked for any point of entry, any forced – and then I saw it. The air duct had been broken into, and I ran over shoving myself inside. I quietly made my way through until I heard talking. It was in a language I couldn't understand or even try to comprehend. I listened to their dialect and found it to be Russian. Now would be a great time for Aunty Tasha's heritage to come in handy, but I ignored the lost cause and looked for a way to sneak in.

"If you wanted to be sneaky, you should have used a different entrance we didn't arm with cameras,"

I didn't realize he was talking to me until the duct I was in broke and I fell onto a counter, luckily there was nothing there but it still hurt like hell. I gasped as the wind was knocked out of me and I scrambled up.

"No need to run, Peter," the man said. He was a slim guy, dark hair, dark eyes, morning shadow across his chin and cheeks, and his closes were…sharp. He had on a tweed tux, almost like the one I wore to prom, but I could tell that this was designer and that it probably cost more than Pops and I's house. His accent was thick, "You look nothing like your fathers. Maybe a little with the eyes and nose, but everything else…" he came over to me and grabbed my chin. I batted him away and fell onto the tile on the opposite side of him. "You should be scared of me, Peter, you should be happy to see that your father is alive, no?" he laughed walking around the counter to face me. I moved backwards as fast as I could but somehow I couldn't reach the strength to get up to properly face him. Maybe because this wasn't a normal criminal: this was a real villain.

He reached over and grabbed my arm to force me up. "'Spider-Man', do your parents know what you're doing? Fighting crime…making all right on the streets of New York? Don't you have a partner?"

"Keep him out of this." I growled. "I came for you, not him."

"But, Peter," he was close to my face now and I could smell his cologne. "That wouldn't be fun."

I tried to move away again but he pulled me up with effortless strength and pinned me against the counter in which I had initially landed on. I struggled harder, thrashing my limbs and I began to shoot my web at him, but his partner came over with a knife in hand and held my wrists together.

"Let's make this a permanent change, yes?" he asked looking at me. He pulled my mask off and threw it aside.

"No!" I moved harder and harder but nothing prevailed.

"Keep still, it'll make for a lesser mess," and he nodded and came around holding my legs and chest down. His partner fixed his knife over my wrists and cut a deep slit in both where my web shot out. I cried in pain as it crept deeper down my forearm. I could feel blood pool in the sleeves of my suit. I needed to get my phone. I needed to get Wade's help, but I needed Pops to stay away. "That should fix the problem." And they both let go. There was blood everywhere. The cuts were incredibly deep. The pain was so intense. I moved off the counter, falling pathetically, as I reached inside my shoe. I dug out my phone and sent a quick text to Wade hoping the two men behind me wouldn't care, but my fingers fumbled as the strain in my arm crippled them. I told them to stay way. Far away. Maybe this was going to be a suicide mission. "And now to bring attention." The man stated pressing a button. Across the street an explosion filled the windows. Some of them shattered and sent glass flying at me. I covered my face as shards bounced off my back. This was it. The Avengers were about to be assembled.


	17. Chapter 17

I remember the pain. The stinging in my arms. It hurt to move them and I tried to put the mask on before the Avengers got there, but I couldn't even lift myself to stand. My vision went blurry and my chest began to ache.

This was no ordinary wound on the arms.

I could see Aunty Tasha outside of the shop with Uncle by her side. There was a whoosh and Uncle Thor landed beside them.

They couldn't see me.

I had to get away.

"You know, Peter," the villain began, "That blade was coated in snake venom, you won't be going anywhere." He came over and pushed me down and I lulled there staring blankly at the ceiling. I felt wobbly and spacey and I couldn't comprehend anything. The man. He said something about venom? Was that what was in my arms? I looked at the bloody mess around me and up at the villain.

I heard myself say something, but I couldn't tell what it was. The man said something back and then there was an arrow in his chest. The power went out and I knew Thor was taking action with his lightning but I blacked out.

Voices filled my head.

Lights flashed across my eye lids.

I finally came to. Realizing I wasn't dead gave me hope, but then I felt the stinging pain in my arms. I remembered everything then.

I opened my eyes my vision flashing across Aunty Tasha's face. She was carrying me and yelling commands.

Was my mask on?

Then I saw Uncle Clint and Thor from behind us. Thor had the villain over his shoulder, and Clint was on his phone.

I heard myself "Don't call Dads," but I knew it was far too late. I was put on a stretcher and I felt an oxygen mask on my face. I closed my eyes letting another blackout settle in.

More voices.

Pain.

Lights.

I don't know how long had passed, but when I woke up I was alone in a hospital room. There was a bouquet of flowers on my left and a few cards lacing the top of my nightstand. My room was low lit so I assumed it was night.

I looked down at my arms and they were covered in a mass quantity of gauze, I could see a little blood seeping through but I didn't think on it. I was alive.

My bed was still and itchy and it made me agitated. Then I grew angry. I couldn't pin point why, but I was furious. I wanted to lash out, scream, and hit things.

This new profound anger caused me to scream and yell. I pulled at my sheets until they ripped. I stumbled off my bed knocking everything on the ground.

I don't know why I was angry, but I grew so profusely livid that I started scratching at myself. I ripped the gauze off my arms and pulled out the stitches. I continued to vocalize my pain as a nurse rushed in. I batted her away as more blood fell to the white tile. She stumbled back catching herself yelling for backup. I clawed at my neck because it started to burn, I felt my nails break the skin, and then I lost control of everything.

I wasn't me but I was conscious of the whole thing. I locked myself inside my room and managed to break open all of the visible skin. My eyes burned and I scratched those. My legs rippled with pain and I scratched them.

The door flew open as the doctor finally found the right key and I was straddled to the ground. I could feel my eyes pool: they were bleeding and it was becoming difficult to see. I was injected with something and I blacked out for the third time.

I woke up crying from pain. I couldn't see because something was covering my eyes and they hurt like hell. My entire body ached and I cried. I didn't care if anyone was in the room, I lost control of everything and my body couldn't function.

I tried to wipe my face but I found my arms strapped to the bed, I moved my legs to test it and they were strapped too.

"Peter, it's okay. I'm here with you," I heard. I moved my head towards the voice and felt my heart ache. It was Pops.

"I'm s-sorry," I mumbled out feeling that same anger rise again. I tried to push it out, I tried to ignore it, anything but to act out again. I bit my bottom lip trying to prepress my screams, but I felt blood touch my tongue. I had no control.

Everything was falling apart.

"Peter, you're okay!" Pops's hand was on my shoulder and the "other me", as I began to call it, tried to push him away.

I heard the nurse talk to Pops about a stronger dose of whatever pain medication I was on, and then I felt heavy and sleepy.

"No…!" I whispered beginning to panic. I hated being put to sleep. The next time could be putting me officially to sleep. Like death. And I panicked. "S….stop…" my voice trailed away from me and I was under again.

I heard a ruff voice that I couldn't pin. I tried to listen but the medication was still in my system and it was hard to comprehend.

"I said 'get out'!"

"Steve, please, let me explain!"

"_GET OUT_!"

And then I realized it was both Dads. Arguing. I said something I didn't understand and they both went quiet.

"Yes, he's here." Pops said in an incredibly stern voice. Then I felt my mouth move again, "Peter, stop apologizing!" he sounded angry.

So it was my fault then…he was angry at me.

I felt myself start to cry again and I clenched my fists. I wanted to be left alone. I didn't want anybody here. I wanted to be by myself.

"Leave." I finally heard myself say.

"We're here for you-"

"Leave!" the anger wasn't rising but I just felt…alone. I knew Dad and Pops were there but it wasn't a physical feeling of being alone, it was inside. There was Wade, sure, but I had done exactly what he told me not to do. I was caving in inside now. I could feel it start to happen.

Weeks passed.

Then it was a month and I could see again.

I hadn't thrown a fit since then, but I refused to talk and they released me. When I got home Neo was waiting for me, patiently waiting for me to sit down so he could carefully examine my scars. I was completely covered in them. My arms, neck, legs, feet, hands, around my eyes; everything had a scar and this was new to my dog. I put a soft hand on his head and smiled at him remembering our lost secrets and private conversations and exploration.

He was old now and I knew he didn't have long. I didn't want to think about it, but I had to. It was going to happen one day and I had to be prepared. He was my best friend, my brother; he was everything to me and it seemed like for the past couple of years I'd been neglecting him.

That was because Wade had entered the picture and he was someone to actually talk to, he was my human best friend and the guy I had fallen in…

I shook my head scratching Neo's ears. I slouched off the couch and hugged him like I used to. I'd wrap my arms around to his back and rest his chin on my shoulder. And we sat like that for a while. Neo knew.

"Dinner, Pete," Pops said quietly as I began to the kitchen. Wade looked at me and gave me a small smile while I just sat down.

Pops asked Wade about the dorm and then I had completely forgotten that he'd moved out already. I looked up, stopped chewing, staring at him.

"It's pretty cool, my roommate is a dick, but eh, I'll live," he said shrugging and then caught my glimpse. His frown diminished.

"Remember you can always request changes,"

"Yeah, I know,"

I stayed silent. I felt Neo under the table as he rested his chin on my knee.

Dinner was over and I shuffled up to Wade's old room. It was empty and I stood in the doorframe with my hands in my pockets. It was a weird nostalgia feeling I had. I grew sadder and turned to go back to my room and Wade was there. "Hey." I nodded. "I tried to see you at the hospital. We all did. But…they only let your parents in…I wanted to tell you I had moved out, but…." He was looking at my scars and I grew self conscious and crossed my arms. His eyes shot back to mine. "I'm sorry…about what happened. You can't run into the line of fire like that. You should have listened to your Dad, all would have been well, and now you're…you're…"

"Fucked up." I finished for him. He was startled at my response and shook his head.

"I didn't say that!" I didn't respond and he stayed quiet for a second. "Listen, just…I want you to come to my dorm next weekend so we can hang out. School doesn't start until next week and my roommate is never there. I miss you and I've been incredibly worried about you." I didn't say anything. "Please, Peter?" I nodded and he grinned a little. "It's weird not seeing you everyday, you know." I knew the feeling. "But my dorm is always open to you no matter what. I'm a drive away and-"

"Drive?"

"I'm going to New York University. I turned down UT." I gave him a questionable look and he sighed, "I'll come pick you up next Friday night?" I nodded. "But…I have to go. My roommate wanted to talk about rules or something." We stood there awkwardly for a moment and then he came up and hugged me. "I'm always here for you, Peter." And he let go and ran down the stairs. He yelled bye to Pops and I stood there alone in the hallway finally realizing I had absolutely no control.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Okay, hey everyone! Sorry I haven't been updating as much. Work has been slaughtering me! I took Monday and Tuesday off for my birthday, so today I'm caught up on everything and I can FINALLY post a chapter! Also, if you have tumblr my url: destinedforsacrifice and my twitter: goddesofawesome.

I couldn't tell you what was happening. One minute I was lying in bed the next minute I was trashing the kitchen. And I mean throwing everything, breaking everything, and made sure everything I touched was broken.

This anger was beginning to take over. Pops didn't know what to do. I didn't know what was happening. And then the day before Wade was supposed to pick me up I found myself crying in the bathtub with my clothes on and cold water running. I had a towel bundled up to my chest and I could hear Pops banging on the door to let him in. How could I face him like this?

When I finally got cold enough to stop the water and to get out I opened the door as Pops looked at me and then embraced me. He didn't say anything as he hugged me. Then I angrily pushed him away. I didn't want to, but the other me did. So I pushed him against the wall and went to my room. Neo was sitting outside of it and I stopped short looking at him. He looked concerned with his ears back and just…sitting like that. Just seeing him like that calmed me down. It was like he could read me and tell me what was happening but I couldn't tell because obviously I don't speak dog.

But I calmed down and I went into my room with Neo, locked my door, and I sat on my floor hugging him and crying into his fur. I didn't want this. I didn't ask for this. I didn't even know what was happening. I was covered in gross scars, my eyes looks distasting, and I had long, gouged gashes on both arms from my where web used to shoot. And now it was all gone.

I woke up the next morning feeling fine. It was the first time since I'd been home that I felt…normal. I met Pops for breakfast in the kitchen and we talked about Wade. He was going to pick me up at 1pm so I had a couple hours to relax.

"Why…am I like this?" I asked finishing my cereal.

"I'm not sure." Pops said quietly as Neo joined us. "I'm having Bruce come over to look at you before you leave, is that alright?"

"Yeah, sure," I said petting my dog. He licked my scarred hand and I smiled down at him.

It was about 11AM when Uncle Bruce showed up. He came in with a briefcase and sat me down in the living room. He examined my eyes, my nails, my mouth, and my scars. "I don't see anything wrong. I'll take a blood sample." He pulled out a syringe and put a rubber band around my bicep looking for a good vein. He stuck it in and drew a good amount and put it in a plastic container. "I'll know in twenty-four hours." He said sitting infront of me. I nodded and sighed. I wanted answers now, not tomorrow. "Just hang in there, Pete. We'll figure out what's wrong," I was glad that everyone knew this wasn't me, that it was something _in_ me that I couldn't control. "I heard you're going to Wade's this weekend?" he asked and I nodded again. "Here," he pulled out a small box. I opened it and it was filled with syringes. "If things get back inject it into your thigh, it'll knock you out before you can do any damage." I took them hesitating knowing that everyone was scared of what the other me could do. After all, I destroyed all of Pops's china and good cups, broke a kitchen chair, and demolished the backyard. "Give some to Wade, too,"

"Thanks." I said simply and he showed a kind smile. "Anything for my favorite nephew,"

I smiled, "I'm your only nephew,"

"Still counts," he shuffled through his bag making sure everything was in place and stood. "Just don't do anything to…trigger you, alright? Pretend you're me for a weekend," he smiled teasing. I nodded admiring the package the syringes were in. There was about ten of them neatly packed into this thing. "Hey Steve, about tomorrow-" and they were off in their own plans for the weekend.

Wade was there to pick me up right on time, I hauled my stuff to his car, and then we were off. He was rambling about his roommate's new rules and I nodded at appropriate times. When the time came I finally explained the syringes and he went quiet.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's just…you weren't like this before. It had to do something with that attack. Had to be. You don't just go…crazy like this over nothing."

I didn't say anything for a few moments and then finally sighed, "I'm not sure."

He seemed displeased with my answer and I could feel my gut churning with small anger. I started to breathe hoping it would calm me down, but by the time I got to his dorm I insisted I take a walk by myself. He didn't ask questions as I left my stuff in his car.

I didn't now how long I walked for, but I started to feel bad. My anger had resided and I followed my tracks back to his dorm. He told me he was in dorm 35 on the third floor, so I made my way up there; but as I neared the open door I heard him talking to his roommate.

"-a little angry. I'll make sure to watch your stuff."

"Why would you bring your psychopath friend here? Where we live in a small, confined room with hundreds of other people?"

"Because he's my friend and I don't want to treat him differently despite his anger issues."

"So why are you friends with him then?"

"He…he wasn't always like this. He got into a nasty fight and his Dads and I think that it has something to do with that,"

"Oh right, you said he was involved in the Times Square bombing. Yeah, that can fuck a guy up."

"He's like…batshit crazy. I was nervous about inviting him here to begin with, but he's my….best friend. I can't just leave him behind because he's changed,"

"Yes you can, especially if he's hurting himself or others. Mentally or physically. It's all the same,"

"I could, but then he would go off the deep end."

"So you _have_ thought of leaving him?"

"I was going to go to UT in Texas, hell I even got accepted, but his Pops convinced me to stay in state. Otherwise I would have left,"

"If you were so hellbent on leaving to Texas, what made his Pops convince you?"

"Money."

"Ah,"

"Yeah, but you know, it's terrible that I don't really feel bad about it. I'm more nervous and on edge than anything. Fuck, his Uncle gave him syringes to knock him out. I have to keep half of them on me,"

"Shit, man, just say something came up and take him back home."

"Can't. Too late now. I'll just have to deal,"

And at that point I was so hurt that I had to hold back a cry. _Put on a happy face. Make it like you heard nothing._ And I did. I pretended to look lost as I passed the dorm door and Wade called me in all smiles.

"I'm glad I got the right floor," I said laughing and he smiled.

"I'm staying at my friend's dorm, catch you on Monday," his roommate said grabbing his backpack and left the room.

"What's his name?" I asked not remembering if Wade had mentioned it or not.

"Jansen," he said. "He's a dick most of the time, but on occasion I can actually hold a real conversation with him,"

"That's cool," I said trying to not let my feelings run my voice, but that hadn't been working out lately.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just hungry." I said showing a small smile.

"Oh, alright! Let's go to the cafeteria, they have good pizza, believe it or not." And he led me down and out of the dorm building, onto the main campus, and into the cafeteria where a few other students were chatting and eating away.

I took his advice and grabbed a slice of pizza, a side dish of mac and cheese, a bowl of green jello, and a water. He paid for it, I thanked him, and we sat down at a table near a window. It overlooked the small drive-in where buses would make runs, and then there was a small courtyard just beyond that where I saw one girl reading on a bench with her ipod in.

"This is good," I agreed halfway through my slice.

"Told ya!" he said. "There's that new Batman movie playing tonight, wanna go see it?"

"Sure," I said taking a spoonful of jello.

We finished, not really saying much, and headed to the cinema and bought our tickets. I bought a popcorn for me and a bag of twislers for Wade. We sat down in the very back row propping our feet up on the seats infront of us.

"It's weird that you don't live at home anymore," I commented munching away.

"Yeah, I'm still getting used to it. I miss Neo a lot,"

"I bet. He sure knows how to make great company."

"This is true," he snapped a twisler in half with his teeth.

"Wade?"

"Mmhm?"

"Do I…bother you?"

He looked at me strangely, like I had listened to his conversation earlier with Jensen. "No, why?"

"Just wondering." I said looking down at my treat. The previews began and the theater got dim.

"I would never be bothered by you," he was still staring at me and I could just feel my stomach flip. He was lying. I had been convinced he never lied to me because we were best friends. Right?

The movie finished and I didn't really like it. Wade was raving about how awesome it was and was such a great ending to a trilogy. I commented here and there but we got back to his dorm and I set up my bed on the floor. Luckily he had carpeted flooring so it wouldn't be that bad to sleep on.

We crashed at about midnight and I couldn't sleep. The only thing I kept thinking about was that Wade had lied to me. To my face. I would have to confront him at some point this weekend, but maybe I'd do it on Sunday incase things got out of hand and I had to make a run for it.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: there's a lot of language in this xD Just warning you.

Saturday went alright. We had breakfast, watched some television, had lunch, went out and he showed me the campus, and then we were eating dinner and we were sitting on his floor playing Halo Live with a few other guys on the forth floor.

"Man, he's over there again. God dammit, why does he sabotage us like this?" Wade complained into his headset which was followed by laughter from the other guys.

"Shit," I mumbled as I was being shot at.

"Parker, we've got you cornered!" I heard into my headset. I grumbled and threw a couple grenades, which they evaded, and ran over to Wade.

We played as a team for a couple more hours until I grew hungry again. "Hey, wanna get some fast food?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure," Wade said grabbing his car keys. We actually met up with the guys we were playing with: Jared, Kris, and John. They were all super nice to me, they asked what things I was in to, music I liked, foods I didn't like, and it went on like that. They genuinely wanted to get to know me and this was a first for me. We all laughed at jokes and funny stories and then this came up.

"Okay, Parker, I have absolutely no problem with it, but I heard you have two Dads?" John asked suddenly intrigued.

"Uh, used to. They're divorced, but yeah, I guess," I said taking a bite of my burger.

"Is it okay if I ask what it was like?"

"What do you mean? It's like any other relationship, I guess. I mean, one is Captain America and then the other is Iron Man, but I haven't heard from Dad in quite some time."

"Dad meaning Tony Stark?" I forgot for a moment and said.

"Yeah. Pops is Steve."

They all nodded, "Sorry, we just don't know anyone else in a same sex relationship."

"Like I said, they're divorced."

"Right, right," Jared nodded. "But, we don't have to dig any further if it's making you uncomfortable."

_Infected_.

I almost choked on my repressed thought and Wade slapped my back as I caught my breath.

"You alright?" he asked and I nodded showing a quick smile.

"Ate too fast,"

"You should slow down," Kris laughed, "My sister used to eat super fast, but then she actually started choking on her food. Moral of the story, it messes up your insides, just take your time chewing, man."

I nodded and showed another smile, "I'll take your word on it"

"But another question for you, Parker," John didn't give me time to say if it was okay or not, "Are you allowed to fight crime with Cap'n America as your dad?"

"Pops," I corrected him, "And no. I don't fight crime." Wade gave me a side glance and I ignored it. "I wish though, it would be cool,"

"Yeah, I heard from Jensen you got caught in the Times Square bombing," Kris piped in.

"I did." I took a slow bite of my fries. Now I could feel their eyes on my scars. The scars they think I got from the bomb, not from scratching myself.

_Infected_.

"What was it like? Being in the bomb?" Kris asked.

"I think he's had enough," Jared butted in. "Listen, sorry if we offended you in any way."

"No, no, you guys are fine. I've just never really…talked to anyone other than Pops about it." Bang. Something to stick Wade with.

And it was an immediate response. I could feel his glare that I didn't confide in him about anything about that night and my nights in the hospital and what I went through. This was my blast at him for lying to me.

"The scars on your arms though, they look so precise," John shoved his way in again.

"Can we not leave him alone?" Jared protested.

"No, it's fine." I tried another fake smile, but it slipped and I crossed my arms and didn't eat anymore. "I'm actually going to step outside," I said and got up as Jared and Wade began to convince me to stay.

"Shit man, we're sorry! We didn't mean to offend you!"

But I left. I sat outside on the curb of the restaurant with my arms folded. I could see every scar on my skin and I decided to wear sweaters from now on. Then maybe people wouldn't ask. They usually never asked about my scratching scars, but more of the knife wounds because they thought it was self-inflicted. And it wasn't.

Then I started to grow angry again and I grabbed my hair and bent my face in my knees. I had to control it. I had left the syringes back at Wade's dorm and now I was helpless. I couldn't ruin the night. I couldn't be _that _guy. I had to calm down.

_Infected_.

"Stop!" I yelled at myself feeling my nails grip my scalp.

"Peter!" his voice was distant as I became uncontrollable.

"Get it!" I screamed at him and he didn't hesitate. He ran to his car, faster than I had ever seen him run, as his friends came out of the restaurant to watch. They weren't going to be my friends after this. Wade looked at me through my arms and gave me the most sincere look.

"You'll be fine." His voice cooed and I could feel the syringe in my arm. I couldn't feel it for the few seconds that my anger grew and bubbled inside, but then I felt heavy and tired. "C'mon, to the car," he wrapped my arm around his shoulder and took me to his vehicle. I was sat in the front seat as the others piled in quietly. I drifted off into a blackout.

I woke up in Jensen's bed. Jared and Kris were camped out on the floor with Wade curled up in his own bed. I sat up rubbing my eyes as they stung. I carefully walked over them and into the bathroom to wash my face and to pee.

When I left the bathroom Wade was sitting up. "How're you feeling?" he asked.

"Calm." I said and then felt a pang in my chest. This was what Wade was talking about to Jensen. My manic ways. He hated it. And I had made him put me out. "Listen, I'm sorry," I whispered trying not to wake the others.

"Don't apologize." His tone was hard. He was angry.

I looked at him and sat on the edge of Jensen's bed. "Can I talk to you…in the hallway?"

"Sure,"

We got up and stood outside for a moment. It was obviously early to the rest of the school kids because no one was up yet. "Um…" I was never good at confrontation. "On Friday…"

"What?"

"I heard you and Jensen talk. Before I came in."

He went rigid. "That was just to shut him up."

"It…didn't sound like it…"

"You're my best friend, why the hell would I honestly say shit like that?"

"So you just say stuff to fit in? What did you tell me so we would be friends?"

"Peter, you're blowing this out of proportion, it isn't like that,"

"Then what is it?" I asked my voice rising.

"Jensen is different. He's a prick, okay? I feel like I have to lie to him in order to be his friend-"

"And what's he going to do when he finds out you were lying to him? You couldn't just said you meant what you said. I'm a fuck up, I know this. I'm fucked up beyond repair right now because of…of…everything! If I'm your best friend you'd stick up for me in situations like that, you'd defend me, but you went on ahead saying that you wanted to cancel the weekend, and that you were tired of me. You don't say shit like that to other people, Wade! It's because I'm infected, isn't it?!"

"What- no-! You've got it wrong! Fuck! And what the hell, you're not infected, Peter! Why would you be infected?!"

It just came out, "BECAUSE I'M GAY!" He went numb. "Because my parents are gay, because everything I touch falls apart. I'm a fuck up and I can't do any fucking thing right. My entire life is stupid and pointless and I should have-"

And he kissed me. Hard. I pushed him away. "That isn't how you fix things." I stated.

"I couldn't get you to shut up, otherwise," he said. "I'm your best friend, right?"

"Yes."

"And you're my best friend. We don't lie to eachother."

"Then tell Jensen the truth."

"Peter, I-"

My phone interrupted me and I looked at the caller. It was Uncle Bruce. "Peter," he didn't give me time to answer, "You need to come home now. I know why you're acting like this and it's a danger to be around people. Ask Wade to bring you home asap." And he hung up. I looked down at my phone.

"What is it?" Wade asked.

"Uncle Bruce needs me home now. Said he knows why I'm like this,"

"I'll get my keys," and he ran back inside.

I stayed still where I was standing still fully understanding. I knew I was a danger to myself, but why to others?

Wade came back out with my things and we headed to his car.


	20. Chapter 20

We got back to my house and Bruce's car was in the driveway. We got inside and Pops and him were waiting in the living room.

"Wade, I'll call you later," I whispered as he put my stuff by the front door.

"Yeah, alright," and he left. I could hear him start up his car and I sat down in the chair facing the two.

"The knife wounds you received on your arms were coated with venom. Not just any ordinary venom," Uncle Bruce began fixing the glasses on the bridge of his nose. I thought about this for a moment and remembered, "He said it was snake venom."

"It's not. It was created in World War II to infect the opposing team. It was called, in translation, the "Blood of the Dragon." Folklore has it that Dragon's blood was venom, but what the German's created was something else entirely. When your Pops was fighting Hydra, instead of the serum to make him a super soldier like him, he used the venom on accident. For some reason, he didn't take effect like the others. The others, however, began to go mad and crazy. They started like you did: getting angry, extremely emotional, self loathing, and they would self inflict like you had with your scratches. It would occur with triggers or randomly, and they would destroy everything they touched. Then they grew blind with rage and began killing each other. This had taken a turn because Hydra had been convinced they would take their rage on the enemy, but instead turned on their own. Some, however, killed themselves. No one can fully say what the thought process is when you inject the venom, but what I do know is this: have you ever heard of coagulation?"

I thought about it, "No." I said. I never paid attention in school until my senior year.

"It's when a substance solidifies a liquid."

My stomach dropped.

"This venom, over time, coagulates the blood. It thickens it slowly, making it travel to the brain to clog thought process. The messages your body sends to the brain get trapped and the blood acts as a tour guide, sending it to the wrong parts. This blood also travels to the heart creating an intensified case of asthma. You can't run, jog, climb stairs, or any cardio exercise without difficulty. And I'm not talking the out-of-breath you get after running, I'm talking about that it's difficult to start taking a step."

Pops was looking out the window. He had already been told this and was here for my support. I was getting scared, no, I was terrified.

"The asthma doesn't take effect until later in the process, because for some reason it takes longer to get into the heart than the brain. I'm not sure why, though."

"Is there a way to cure it?" I asked.

Bruce picked up his notes and flipped through a couple pages, "Yeah," he mumbled and found what he was looking for, "Your Dad was working on it. I found this in the lab out back," he said handing me the papers. I instantly recognized Dad's handwriting.

I began reading what he had written and found myself not understanding any of it. "I'm usually good with equations, but…I can't read this." I said. "The variables don't make sense, I mean, the P here should be equivalent to this, so why did Dad line them up on the same side?"

"Because that P doesn't stand for what you think it does." Bruce stated. "Your father created a new element a few years before you were born. It was to help keep him alive with the arc, and he had kept it to himself. Two years ago, the year he left you, was the year he created another new element: P. It was designed specifically for this venom, and do you know why?"

I looked down at the notes expecting the answer to be there. "Your father never explained why he divorced Steve. The same man who cut open your arms was the same man who took your father away. He had created a slave out of your father after he found out what he could do. He injected the venom into Tony's body a year before he left you. Remember the fights?"

"But the fights were reoccurring for years,"

Bruce could see that I was confused. "Let me start over. Your father created a new element in 2010, this man caught wind and made a deal with Tony. He began working for him, your Pops caught on to what he was doing, and then the man injected the venom into Tony, he divorced Steve to keep the man away from you both, and he finally got a hold of you. Tony is the only one with the correct formula, so I have to assume this one is off by a variable or something like that."

I didn't say anything. I was taking it all in. It was going to fast, everything was so abrupt, so…I told him I hated him and to leave. But I didn't know. He said he didn't have a choice, and now I knew why. Why didn't he just tell me?

"So we have to find Dad to get the right formula?"

"Correct. But I don't know where he is or how to contact him. He could be anywhere."

"He came here the night I got out of the hospital. Wade and I went to look for Neo outside and Dad was in the lab looking for something."

Pops's eyes darted to me and I could see emotions flash across them. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"How was I supposed to say, 'Oh, by the way, Dad is in the shed outside. Go give him a hug. You know, he left us and all, but you know, he's here!'? Hell no. I told him to leave. He told me to keep you out of the Hershey's shop, but I was stupid and went after him to try and kill him."

"You said he was looking for something?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure what it was, he was messing on his computer and that's all I saw before I started…nevermind. I don't know what he was looking for." I told him blatantly.

I could read the look on Pops's face. He was torn and battling with himself. Now I knew why. He had tried to stop Dad from leaving because he knew what would happen. He knew the affair was a lie, he knew why he stayed out late at night, he knew _everything_ and tried to stop it. He told me it was an affair so I wouldn't get wrapped up in this mess, but I had made that decision on my own for trying to fight a battle I knew I could never win. How long had Pops known about Dad, though? How long, really? From the start? From a few years back? When?

I looked down at the notes wondering what the element of P actually was. I flipped through the notes trying to figure it out, but Dad had made sure there was no evidence in these notes to ever indicate what it was. Hell, he didn't have to. He knew and that's all there was needed for it.

"Then we should look for him." I stated. "For Dad."

"We'll get killed," Pops snapped.

"Not if we get all of the Avengers involved,"

"I just…I'm not sure."

"You fought off an alien race before I was born, you fight villains all the time, how could this be any different?" I asked confused.

"Because one of ours is on the opposing side." Bruce stated.

"But he's not. If he came to warn me then he still cares, right? He left because he didn't have a choice,"

There was another look on Pops's face. I had bashed my father's name for years, threatened to kill him if I ever saw him again, refused to talk about him in public, things like that, and now I was defending him. I could see pride in his face, that now I was old enough to understand things were going to be easier. It wasn't a secret anymore and he was relieved. Relieved that Dad wasn't in my burn book any longer. I was wanting to rescue him, of all things.

"Peter, you know I'd love to, but it's not…that easy," Pops whispered.

"Why not? He's pretty much being held captive because of the element, right? That's a crime, right? He's also best friends with each member of the Avengers, that has to be motive, right?"

"Peter, it's not that simple." Uncle Bruce sighed. "You…should have learned that with Times Square."

I stared at him disbelieving, "So you're just going to leave him there?"

"Of course not!" Pops snapped. "We just have to think it through before we step in. This man is not to be tested with. You've seen first hand what he can do and now you're paying the consequence of such actions."

"So you're saying I'm fucked up because of him?" I asked angrily.

"Language!" Pops yelled. "I didn't say that! I meant it as he's not to be confronted head on! We need to formulate a plan, strategize this all the way through with ever possible outcome. We can't go in head first, that's what I meant to say!" he took a calming breath, "And you're not fucked up, okay? You're not. It's the venom."

I ignored his comment and sighed, "Okay, fine. So we strategize. In order to get me better we have to find Dad. That's the thesis of this plan, right?"

"Overall, yes," Bruce clarified.

I nodded and heard Neo climb down the stairs. He came into the living room and sat next to me. I instantly smiled and scratched his ears. "Hey, buddy," I said and he wagged his tail making me instantly forget what I had just talked about.


	21. Author's note!

HEY EVERYONE! This is just an author's note from yours truly.

I sincerely apologize for the months that I have not been able to update. I feel terrible that I haven't gotten the chance to. It's been beyond crazy at work and I'm dealing with some personal things, as well. I'm going to try and start writing again, hopefully, by the end of this month.

I have NOT forgotten about my readers/fanfics! I've been so ;asjg;asd;lfkj ugh. Let me die.

But I'm not quitting my stories!

Thank you for continuing to hold on and wait for my update. There are no words to show my appreciation! 3

I love you all! Thanks, again!


	22. Chapter 21

A/N: This is the moment you've all been waiting for…A NEW CHAPTER! Muahaha! Things have calmed down and now I'm here! :D /happy dance/ Hope you continue reading and enjoy the story! I know it's short – will add more this weekend!

Weeks had gone by and I had spent the majority of my time at SHEILD with the other Avengers. It was a very positive feelings being there with everyone. I had visited this building more times than I could count, but it was always on visits. I was never included.

After the New York bombing everyone knew I was Spider-Man. It was a given and I didn't hide it from them any longer. Uncle Clint even asked me all the crimes we'd solved and criminals to jail. Clint and Uncle Thor were especially impressed. Pops thought it was reckless, and Aunty Tasha and Uncle Bruce had no opinion on it.

Wade was also induced into the Avengers as Dead-Pool. After a week of being there I asked Wade if he wanted to be apart of it. He immediately accepted and I convinced the rest of them that I wanted my best friend to be part of it.

There were hard arguments that circulated through the days about where Dad could be and what scenarios we'd face, but Wade turned out to be the gate-keeper in all this and was able to calm everyone down.

Another week went by and we still had no location of Dad whatsoever. Everything led to a dead-end. He must be somewhere in either New York or a state surrounding it. For him to escape and travel back home was either a short distance or he had put his life on the line of running hundreds of miles to warn us.

Things didn't add up to me. Uncle Bruce, myself, and Wade had sat over the equation running every possible thing we could think of and nothing would click. P was becoming a nuisance and it was becoming more and more frustrating.

We left the equation alone for another week and half until Thor said, "Maybe we are looking in the wrong direction," he was dressed in our clothing because his gear from Asgard was too attention-drawing. Given everyone in New York City knew he wasn't from Earth, he still wanted to fit in like us.

"What do you mean?" Aunty Tasha asked clicking a pen over a stack of her notes. "We've thought of almost everything,"

" 'Almost'," Thor quoted. "We forget that Tony had been summoned into this and he agreed. It wasn't out of a willing patron; it was out of force."

"What're you saying?" Clint looked between his wife and the Asgardian.

I looked up understanding, "Are you wanting one of us to go undercover? To put ourselves on the enemy line? I'm not sure you understand what the man's capable of," I snapped referring to my manic episodes and scars.

"We understand fully what the villain's intentions are, which is why you would not be going 'on the enemy line', as you say," Uncle Thor said calmly. He was good at that. "It would be one of us,"

"Don't you think he's going to get suspicious?" Wade asked sipping on some coffee.

Pops shook his head obviously trying to hold his tongue back, "No. None of us are going over to the enemy's side. I won't allow it," his voice was stern and controlling. I wondered if he'd taken the commanding role for the Avengers, but no one had said anything about it.

"Then what do you suggest? It's been two months and we've run with nothing and Peter's asthma is starting to kick in." Natasha pointed at me and I nodded in agreement.

"If Tony can live with it, I'm sure Peter will be fine as well," Pops protested.

"Except Tony has an Arc in his chest that keeps him alive," she argued.

Pops went quiet. "I vote against crossing enemy borders." He stated quietly. I agreed. I didn't want any of my family or friends with the nameless villain.

Hours passed and soon it ran into night.

Dinner came and went and Pops sent Wade and I home.

We got into his car – we took turns driving everyday – and began home. It was around 1AM now and I could feel my eyes sagging for sleep. My chest burned just a little as we ventured home.

Wade was also going to school during this time. He decided to only take two classes per week and they were on Mondays only, so it left him the rest of the time to study the little bit that he needed and to help us strategize.

When we pulled into the driveway I got my small tote out and slung it over my shoulders pulling my hoodie sleeves down below my hands. It had become a habit of mine to continuously hide them. I had also started wearing more higher-necked shirts and scarves. I didn't like when people stared.

"I can't find my key," Wade mumbled searching his pockets.

"I got it," I said digging mine out of my bag and sliding it into the key hole. It gave way and Neo was there with a wagging tail and happy smile. I felt bad leaving him here alone all day, but my neighbor had agreed to watch him while we were at SHEILD. Honestly, I would have preferred staying at the house so Neo wouldn't get lonely, but SHIELD headquarters had everything we needed whereas the house had a lone computer Pops used to order movies off of through Netflix.

Wade bent down scratching Neo behind the ears quickly before closing and locking the door behind him.

I took Neo out to potty and picked him up to have him stay in my room like I did every night. Wade was rummaging through the cabinets to get a glass of water or something as I went to brush my teeth.

I had started to take off my shirt to change into pajamas when I heard a crash. I leaned out of my bedroom and listened, "Wade, you okay?" I called as Neo was quickly next to me. He didn't growl or whine, he just stood.

Slipping my arms through the sleeve I grabbed one of Wade's katanas and headed down the stairs cautiously. Neo had begun to follow closely behind, but I hushed him and told him to stay. His ears went back and I said, "Stay," once more and he finally sat and did as commanded.

"Wade?" I called again. Nothing. "Shit," I mumbled holding the hilt of the sword tightly in my hand. I didn't know how to use it, but I'd seen Wade use it plenty of times. Hopefully I could mimic some of his moves.

I got down into the living room and peered into the kitchen where a broken glass was shattered on the ground. I grew nervous about what was to come and I finally was able to get myself into the kitchen. I got enough guts to peer into the dining room off to the right, but no one was here. I whirled around.

There was no one here.

I let the blade drop slightly by my side checking every room in the house. Still finding nothing I pulled out my phone and called his cell. It rang a handful of times before his voicemail came up. I slid my phone shut and went back up to my room. Neo was still at the stair's landing watching me carefully. "Can't find him," I mumbled to him. He wagged his tail shortly before going back to the bedroom. I followed him sitting on my bed.

I pulled my phone out again and called Pops.

"Hey," he answered.

"Did Wade go back to headquarters?" I asked.

Pops asked Bruce if he'd seen Wade come back, "No," he replied to me. I scratched the back of my head in nervousness. "Is everything okay?"

"I heard a crash in the kitchen, there's a broken glass, and Wade's gone. There's no one here," I pursed my lips tightly as I listened through the house.

"Did you check the shed?" he asked.

I hadn't. "I'll call you back," I responded hanging up. I grabbed the katana again and headed downstairs and finally out to the backyard. The door to the shed was open and a soft light was emitting from it. "Wade?" I called.

"Come here." His voice sounded hurt and worried.

I ran in with the sword and looked at him. He was sitting infront of the computer Dad used to work at with a screen pulled up. I had seen the screen a hundred times before. It was one of the screens we printed off with a weird design and the equation. "Are you okay?" I asked.

"Peter," his voice was so soft I almost didn't hear him.

Guessing he wasn't injured I went over to him. His hand was bleeding a little from the broken cup but it wasn't anything to need stitches over.

Wade tapped at the screen, "I think….I think I figured it out." He mumbled to me.

"The equation?" I asked confused and curious.

"He shook his head. "I…I don't think it's an equation," he turned to me and I watched his blue eyes strike mine. They were swimming with ideas and possibilities not sure if his ideas were accurate. He brought up his wounded thumb and pressed the cut to his mouth. "The more I think about it the more…the more it makes sense." He quickly turned back to the computer and pulled out a already written on piece of paper. He yanked pen out of the cup next to the computer and began scribbling things down. I often forgot how smart he could be.

I leaned over his shoulder as his hand was jotting things down at lightning speed. A minute passed and he looked back up at the computer. He stood so fast he knocked the chair out from behind him and I stumbled back swinging the sword. I set it on the ground not wanting to thrash it at either of us and looked at him.

"What? What is it?" I asked.

"It all makes sense. The P, how the variables didn't make sense, the way it was set up. And this diagram." He pointed to the screen. "Peter, it's not a formula or design!" he yelled getting overwhelmed.

"Then what is it?" I practically yelled back. My heart was speeding up and my stomach was turning.

"Peter, it's…you."

I looked at him utterly confused. "I…don't get it." I said matter-of-factly.

"This was why your Dad pushed you into math – it's…He knew!" he yelled again throwing his hands up looking back down at his paper. "We need to tell them! We need to tell SHEILD."

"Tell them what?" I exclaimed.

"The equation is your name! The P stands for Peter, the variable here," he pointed to a symbol that Peter didn't know, "It's the Roman symbol for our B, and all these numbers over this division symbol is…is your Dad's last name. It was his trade-mark on his machine's harddrives. It's 'Stark'. Peter. Benjamin. Stark. And, and, and," he pointed at the screen again his hand shaking, "The design is a map. I thought I'd seen it before at school. We were studying in my World History class about underground bunkers they used to have for World War II in Maryland and further on the East Coast," his hands went up in his hair and I began to shake. "He came back to delete the evidence." He spun back around toward me. "When you rushed in on your Dad that night, he was trying to code a program to keep whoever it is away from this. Peter, your Dad gave us the map."


End file.
